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dira333 · 10 months

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We balance each other out - Leonard Bones McCoy x reader

tagging @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse because she’s still the best star trek writer out there; you don’t have to read this, I just like to take every chance I get to compliment you.

Warning: childbirth is messy - some curse words

This is a repost from my AO3 account.

„Well, let’s get going, Bones,“ Jim claps him on the back and darts past you towards the car, „Don’t want to get stuck in traffic on our way back.“

„Don’t say that!“ Bones snaps and helps you down the few steps, „I’m already anxious enough with you driving us back as it is.“

„Don’t snap at him,“ you tell your husband off, „He’s trying to be nice…“

He grumbles, but stays quiet and helps you into the car.

„Are you comfortable?“ He asks and drapes a blanket on your lap before checking that you have a bottle of water with you.

You show him the bottle with a smile. „Relax, Len. It’s just a baby, not a deathly disease. It’s going to be alright. I can already breathe a lot better than I did yesterday.“

He still looks concerned.

„That could be the stage of lightening. Let me check if the baby has moved.“

You stop him before he can pull out his own, very special first-aid-kit.

„It’s fine, Len. The baby is due in about a week. Not today, not tomorrow. Jim will drive safe, we will stop every hour so I can pee and in about five hours we will be back in the City.“

„I should have never let you persuade me to come and stay at this farm house in the first place,“ he complains and gets into the passenger seat.

Jim doesn’t even wait for him to put his seat belt on, just pushes down the gas pedal and speeds out of the driveway, spraying gravel into the forest.

„Dammit, Jim, are you trying to kill us?“

„Just making up for the time we lost because of your loitering.“

"She’s pregnant, you-”

“Relax!”, you interrupt your husband and put your hands on his shoulders, “Everything will be fine. Jim will behave from now on and before you try to pick another fight, do I have to remind you that it was you who wanted to get out of the city for our shore leave? How did you bribe us again?”

“Fresh air, good food, and beautiful nature,” Jim piped up and grinned back at you.

You rolled your eyes at him.

A five long hour drive is a very long time, especially if you have to sit in a car with Jim Kirk, the Captain that can never sit still and Doctor Leonard McCoy, the doctor who loves to complain.

The fact you were in the last stage of your pregnancy made things considerably harder to endure.

You had promised that you would only need toilet stops ever hour - just like on the drive to the little farm house two weeks ago - but your bladder and your baby didn’t want to hold onto that promise. After hour two passed you had to ask for the fifth stop and Jim wasn’t the only annoyed one in the car.

“Do you really have to pee that often?” He asks and leaves the highway.

“What else do you think I do in there?” You snap and wiggle around in your seat. The pressure in your bladder is almost unbearable now.

“I don’t know! Can’t you just take a bottle-”

“JIM!” Bones shouts, “I’m not letting my wife pee in a damn bottle!”

Jim growls in annoyance and halts in front of a small roadhouse.

“Take your time, M'lady,” he jokes almost bitterly and you flip him off before wobbling out of the car.

Being pregnant is hard. Beautiful, sometimes at least, but also hard.

The sickness in the first trimester, then the heart burns and the fact that none of the clothes ever fit - thank god for replicators - the kicking and the pressure on the bladder, diarrhea and the-

“Fuck!” You mumble and look down at your panties. There’s a bloody-brown tinted spot on the white fabric and everything makes sense.

The sensation of being able to breathe easier had been indeed a sign. The Baby had moved while you slept, its head dropped down into your pelvis in preparation for delivery. Which explained why you had to pee so often, it was pressing on your bladder even more than usual.

And now the bloody show - the little one was on her way.

“Come one,” you let your hands move over your belly in a soothing manner, “Don’t be impatient. If you wait a few more hours daddy will be more than happy to get you out of me, okay?”

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Jim asks when you get back in the car, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes.” “No,” You disagree with your husband and Jim smirks.

“Who’s honest now?”

“I am,” you say, leaning back in the seat, “I’m saying Penelope or Georgie, something that sounds like a southern Belle. And Len here wants weird names like Lora or Harper.”

“I like Penelope,” Jim smiles at you in the rearview mirror, “You can shorten it to Poppy.”

“A name is not supposed to be shortened,” Bones growls and you pat his shoulder.

“Whatever you say, Len, whatever you say.”

Hour three is coming to a close. You’ve stopped another three times because of your bladder, but Jim has kept quiet every time, while your husband throws you one worried glance after the other.

You could tell him what you’ve found out, but you’re a nurse and a woman who knows her body and you’ve decided that you can deal with this a bit longer if it means he’s going to stay calm during the drive.

And then the traffic slows down.

The highway is packed with cars who all drive into one direction.

First with a slow, but persistent speed, but then it drops to a nerve-wracking stop and go.

And then nothing.

“This can’t be happening,” Len mumbles, dread in his voice. He’s clutching the dashboard, his knuckles turning white, “This can’t be happening.”

You want to tell him to relax, that you will get out of this soon, but a cramp works its way through your body and you have to press your mouth shut to keep yourself from making a surprised noise.

It feels a tiny little bit like a strong hiccup but accompanied with all the other symptoms you’ve had throughout this day you know it’s a contraction.

Nothing to worry about, you tell yourself, as long as they are irregular and as long as my water hasn’t broken yet, I will be fine. Just a few more hours until we’re in the city.

“Are you okay?”

Jim’s voice snaps you out of the chaos in your head. You smile at him and move forward carefully, pushing your hands through Lens’ hair, calming him down.

“It’s just a traffic jam. Nothing big. It will clear soon.”

“I hope so,” he grumbles, “Do you want to get out and walk a bit? Your legs must be stiff.”

“No, I’m fine,” you decline quickly. The physical movement might stimulate the muscles and prepare for contractions and right now that’s the last thing you want.

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m just going to relax in my seat a bit. But if you want to, take a break, walk around the car for a bit. I’m gonna watch your back.”

You manage to wink at him and he smiles.

“You’re watching my back?” He jokes.

“Gross,” Jim complains, “You’re about to be parents. No sexy talk when the kids can hear you.”

“Oh, shut up,” you mumble and close your eyes for a moment.

You can hear the car door opening, Len groaning, the cracking of his joints when he stretches.

“Damn, you’re old,” Jim jokes from across the car.

“Shut up,” Len snaps and you smile.

Until another contraction hits.

You keep your eyes on the two men in front of the car while you breathe in and out, timing the contractions.

They are arguing, as far as you can tell with the doors closed and the windows up. You don’t hear a thing and you’re thankful for that.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” Len mumbles when he gets back into the car, “I’m afraid we will be here a bit longer.”

You can see that he tries to be calm for your sake.

“Looks like you will need to pee in a bottle after all,” Jim says and slips back into his seat.

“Dammit Jim,” Len grunts, “Where are your manners?”

“Back at the farm,” Jim quips, “I’m just being honest here, okay.”

You want to say something back at that, want to interrupt the fight that is going to start between them any moment now, but there is yet another contraction and a growing wetness between your legs.

“Fuck!” You say instead. “You don’t need to worry about peeing anymore, Jim.”

“What?!” He turns around to stare at you, “Don’t tell me you peed in the car.”

“I didn’t pee. The membranes of the amniotic sac ruptured.”

“WHAT?!” Len yells, while Jim just stares at you in confusion.

“Can you say that in English?”

“Her water broke, you absolute fool!”

“What?” Jim asks again and you groan out in anger.

“The baby,” you tell him, “It’s coming.”

“Now?!” Jim pales visibly, “It can’t come now! We’re stuck in a traffic jam in the middle of nowhere!”

“We know that!” You and Len yell at him in unison.

Another contraction hits you and you groan in pain.

Len’s in Doctor-mode immediately, jumping out of the car and pulling your door open.

“How bad are the contractions? How often do they come?”

“Every five to seven minutes. I’d give it a 3 to 4 on the pain scale.”

“That’s not that bad, is it?” Jim asks weakly and you glare at him.

“I can inflict the same pain on you if you want to know how bad it is,” you threaten him and he holds his hands up in defeat.

“I’m going to… uh… call the others. See if they know anything.”

“Right!” Len gnarls at him, “Make yourself useful for once!”

Half an hour later Jim returns.

You’re a mess, a sweating, groaning mess on the backseat, crying out in pain whenever a contraction hits, clutching on the anything that can give you at least a little support.

“I’ve got bad news,” he greets, “Cause of the traffic jam is an accident. They reckon that up to twenty people are injured and there’s been some serious damage. They’re redirecting traffic, but there only some smaller routes open and they estimate that we will have to wait at least two hours before we can get off the highway at least.”

“Two hours?” Len snaps, “Two frickin’ hours? This is a car! On a highway! And my wife is going into labor! I can’t deliver a baby in the middle of a frickin’ highway! Do you know how dirty this is? The risk of infection? Do you?! We need to get her to a hospital immediately!”

“I tried!” Jim yells out, “But they’re still treating the injured up north! There’s no one available for at least an hour! You’re a doctor!”

“I’m a-” Len sighs in exasperation and returns to your side, cooling your head with a wet wipe.

“Everything will be okay,” you tell him with a weak smile, “’s not gonna be the first baby that’s born in a car and it’s probably not going to be the last.”

“You’re not supposed to calm me down,” Len mutters bitterly and you start to laugh but it catches in your throat when another contraction hits.

“Jim!” You yell out when it passes, “Where’s Scotty?”

He looks at you like you’ve gone mad. Maybe you have.

“What?”

“Where’s Scotty? He and Chekov stayed in a house near ours, right? They might be close. Get him on the phone with Len.”

“Darling, he’s an engineer, not a doctor,” Len reminds you and you snort.

“I know that, but firstly I’d like him around, secondly he might have tools with him that we can use and thirdly could he stay with us while Chekov and Jim walk to the next roadhouse to get us some water and towels.”

“How can you stay calm in this?” Len asks in exasperation, “I’m the doctor, I’m supposed to be the calm one.”

“Well, I’m your wife, I’m supposed to be balancing you out.”

“You stay here,” Len tells Jim when he gets out of the car, “You time the contractions, you hold her hand and you keep an eye on her cervix. Don’t let her push until it’s properly dilated.”

“What?” Jim asks with a high voice.

“Don’t listen to him,’” You tell him, “I’m not letting you look at my cervix anyway.”

“What the hell is a cervix?” Jim grumbles and slips into the car, crouching into the small space between the backseat and the front seat.

“Do you really want to- agh”, you stop, gnarl and push down on his hand until you can hear him curse and feel the pain subside, “Know?”

You don’t know how long it takes Scotty to pack his things and get to you. You’ve lost track of time as the contractions have been getting more painful and Len’s looks have been getting more worried.

But then he’s here and you’re so glad to see his friendly face that it doesn’t matter how much you’re hurting and how gross childbirth is.

“Aye, lass, I heard ya need me?”

Scotty slips into the front seat and holds out a little juice box for you, puts the straw carefully between your lips.

You take one delicious sip of the juice.

“Is that grape juice?” You ask, taking another eager sip.

A smiling face framed by curly hair pushes past the passenger seat.

“It is your favorite, right?” Pavel asks and holds up a plastic bag filled with water bottles, paper towels, and more juice boxes.

“You’re a literal angel,” you mumble, “Both of you.”

“Well thank you,” Jim mumbles from the floor, “It’s not like I’ve been sitting here for the past hour, letting you crush my hand.”

“Get out of there,” Len orders before you can say something, “Sanitize your hands and help me. Darling, it’s time for you to push.”

“I don’t think I have it in me,” you murmur weakly.

“Yes you do,” Len’s voice is thick with worry and laced with determination, “Listen to me, darling, we’ve got so far already, you’re not giving up now. You’re supposed to balance me out, right?”

“Oh fuck you,” you tell him, “The next time you bear the child and then we talk about this again.”

Scotty chuckles next to you and a warm hand slip into yours, the pressure comforting.

“We can do zat together,” Pavel tells you.

“So far every child has come out,” Scotty assures you, “All you have to do is help it a little. Have you decided on the name yet?”

“No,” says Len while you say “Yes.”

“It’s going to be a Poppy,” Jim intervenes and steps next to his friend.

“What do I have to do?”

Delivering a child in the middle of a traffic jam is something that attracts people.

Not that you have the time to worry about that. Or the energy.

But you notice Pavel slipping out of the car more than once and when he comes back he mumbles about nosy people under his breath.

And then there’s Jim’s voice, loud and clear and horrified, cutting through the pain and the dullness of your mind.

“Fuck! What is that?!”

“That’s the head, you moron!” Len snaps, squeezing your knee in reassurance, “You’re doing fine, darling.”

You try to look at him, but Jim catches your attention instead, his face ghostly pale, his eyes rolling backward in a way that makes you sick. And then he faints, just like a lady in the good old times.

“Seriously?” Len says and looks down at his friend, before focusing again, “Chekov, out of the car, check if the idiot hurt himself and then help me. We need to deliver a baby before we can help the baby that is the Captain.”

You’ve lost track of time.

You’ve lost track of up and down, can’t tell if there’s someone touching you or if you’re imagining it instead.

And then there’s a loud cry, Scotty mumbles something into your ear and a warm and heavy and wriggling body is put into the embrace of your arms.

“Congratulations,” Len says with a thick voice, “You’ve done it, Darling. And she does look like a Penelope.”

You look down at the little girl that’s wailing in your arms. She’s a wrinkly red-faced mess with a surprisingly loud voice.

“Impatient and stubborn like her dad,” you mumble and touch the curled up lip with your finger tips, “Couldn’t have waited another day.”

“Well at least she’s got your looks,” Jim jokes weakly from his place on the floor next to the car and sends you a soft smile.

“We will see about that,” you say and look around at all the smiling faces of your friends. A tear escapes Len’s eye and you reach out your hand to gently wipe it away.

“Now, now,” You say, “Don’t get all emotional on me here. We have to balance each other out, right?”

He clears his throat with a smile. “Right.”

#Leonard Bones McCoy #Leonard McCoy #Bones x reader #Leonard McCoy x reader #my writing #star trek aos #AOS Bones

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silverfoxstole · 11 days

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Sylvester McCoy jokingly calling Tom Baker a bastard yesterday and then having to hurriedly pretend he hadn’t just sworn in front of an audience full of kids was rather funny.

Apparently he, Peter and Colin discovered that Tom was in the 50th anniversary special when they were making The Five(ish) Doctors and someone on the DW crew asked them to sign the Day of the Doctor script. Paul has been (grudgingly) forgiven his transgression but I’m not sure Tom ever will!

#sylvester mccoy #tom baker #doctor who #portsmouth comic con

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runninggolden · 1 year

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Certified ‘Pain In The Ass’ (part 1)

Leonard McCoy x female OC (can be read as x reader)

word count: 3530

a/n: Hello! I’m writing again! This is an old fic of mine that didn’t work out. But I liked it a lot so I decided to strip it down to its bare bones and write it all over again and now it works! I’m still editing part 2 but it should be up soon! I’m on AO3 as RunningGolden :)

This was originally an x reader fic but I accidentally gave the reader too much personality so I just made her an OC. Whoops. You can still imagine her as ‘reader’, I don’t describe her looks at all and I only gave her a surname. Her personality is very strong, though.

This is sort of enemies to friends to lovers. The enemies part is more of a backstory though.

summary: Her friendship with Leonard was a strange one. They’d banter a lot, she’d playfully joke with him and he’d roll his eyes and occasionally fail to fight a smile. He’d drag her to med-bay everytime she even got a papercut and she pretended to be inconvenienced by it. Oh, and she was deeply, embarrassingly, in love with him. (part 1 of 2)

warnings: profanity, injuries, blood, aliens, danger, OC is a little shit lmao, they’re both idiots, literally children pulling each others pigtails, almost painful pining

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When she met Leonard McCoy for the first time, she quickly discovered how easy it was to annoy him. One, admittedly dumb, comment and he whirled on her with a scowl that seemed to permanently reside on his face and frustration seeping out his pores as he snarled; “Damn it, I’m a doctor not a frog! The bio bed is stuck 5 meters up in the air and you suggest ‘jumping’?! Why does everyone insist on being a pain in my ass today?!”

She laughed in his face.

That clearly wasn't the reaction the doctor expected if his look of disgruntled confusion was anything to go off. He looked her up and down, seemingly only then realizing that he did not recognize the person he just scolded.

"Hold on, who the hell are you?"

She smirked, his obvious bad mood dangling in front of her face like candy on a string. And boy, did she have a sweet tooth. "Oh, you haven't heard? I’m Chief Security Officer Flynn. They hired me to be a pain in your ass. Anyway, have you tried a trampoline?"

Despite her new job on the Enterprise keeping her quite busy, being Leonard McCoy's certified ‘pain in the ass’ was a role she took up enthusiastically. Annoying the notable doctor quickly became her favorite hobby. Bothering him in med-bay, crashing his drinking sessions with the Captain and proclaiming something dumb to get him to argue with her (much to the Captain's amusement), offering more useless comments for him to rant about. It was all a fun distraction from an otherwise stressful move to a new starship.

It was simple, really. A simple game, a simple back-and-forth, a simple source of entertainment.

But it didn’t take her very long to discover that there was absolutely nothing simple about Doctor Leonard McCoy.

There was just something special about him that kept her coming back for more. She couldn't stop seeking him out, bantering with him, learning things about him, trying to get him to laugh at her jokes. It didn't take very long for her to forget it was supposed to be simple.

He didn't make it easy, either. He claimed to absolutely loathe her and immediately seized any chance to argue with her, to complain about her, to glare at her. And of all the things she's learned about him, his god-awful (and overly dramatic) acting skills might just be her favorite.

You didn't have to be a genius to tell that despite his colorful language, his words were never harsh. He scowled like he got paid for it but his expressions were never cold. And for someone who claimed that she was the unfunniest person in the universe, he sure covered up a lot of laughs with ill-placed coughs.

If you had asked anyone on the ship, they would’ve told you that he enjoyed their arguments even more than she did.

Perhaps she was also a distraction to him. Perhaps life in between all the action on the Enterprise was so dreadfully boring, that her antics kept him somewhat entertained. Perhaps underneath all the cynical theatrics, he liked having her around.

It took a year into the Enterprise's new mission for them to develop a strange sort of friendship. He begrudgingly made space for her in his life and she toned down her antics. From time to time he stopped acting like she was the bane of his existence and every now and then she opened the floor to friendly conversations. She’d playfully joke with him and he’d roll his eyes and occasionally fail to fight a smile. He’d drag her to med-bay everytime she even got a papercut and she pretended to be inconvenienced by it. They still bantered a lot, but it was softer, somehow.

And it took one moment for her to mess it all up.

She made him laugh, really laugh, and suddenly it all made sense. It was all building up to this, all the bad jokes, all the pitiful attempts, they all came to this moment. And god was it worth it. He let out a hearty, belly-aching laugh and his eyes crinkled at the corners and it was like the stars aligned and heavens opened up. She finally saw the light and was lit up by it from the inside, her heart engulfed in flame by a single sound. It lasted only a moment and she was immediately thirsting for more. Thirsting like she was sweltering in the desert and the only thing that could quench her thirst was hearing that goddamn laugh again. Preferably on her lips. Whilst wrapped in his embrace.

Of course, of course this is what it was about the entire goddamn time!

Oh. Oh, I am so screwed.

“Leonard! It’s your favorite patient!” Her call was followed by an exasperated sigh and the screech of a chair. The Med-Bay was quiet that day, only a handful of people littered about and the only notable sound that could be heard was the occasional cough.

“What did you do this ti-“ Leonard abruptly stopped mid-sentence as soon as he rounded the corner and spotted her standing in the doorway clutching her bloody hand. “My god, what the hell did you do?!” He ran up to her and gently took her hand to examine it. She smiled at him sheepishly.

“Challenged Sulu to a duel… again… we got a little carried off.” She chuckled and he gave her the look. His famous ‘I can’t believe I have to deal with this bullshit’ look that most people would whither from in shame. Not her though, no, she reveled in it. She wasn't sure if it was because of her persistent desire to annoy him or that she just liked being in the center of his attention. Perhaps a bit of both.

"Again?! Last time he almost cut you in half and you decided to have another go?!" His arms folded disapprovingly across his chest as he glared at her. Apparently her cut wasn't life-threatening enough to skip a lecture.

She scoffed. “Oh, relax, I was fine, he barely grazed me.”

“You were out of commission for a week!”

“Yeah, because you banned me from moving!”

“You would’ve ripped your stitches out!”

"I would've been careful!"

"You seriously expect me to believe that?"

Fair point. “Okay, fine. I promise to never again intentionally get into another sword fighting duel with potentially the greatest sword fighter in outer space.” She promised in a flat voice, fingers crossed behind her back, before grimacing and quickly adding; "Don't tell Sulu I said that."

“You’re a menace.” He grumbled with an eye roll as he led her to the nearest med-bed and started to clean the wound. A stray hair rebelled from his neatly combed hair and she couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked as he continued berating her, each comment decorated with increasingly creative insults.

“Oh, Dr. McCoy… I love it when you talk dirty to me.” She breathed and sent him with a sultry look, successfully stopping his rant short. She snickered as she felt his hands still on hers for a moment before he fixed her with a glare. He drew in a deep breath and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He shook his head with a sigh, and went back to treating her wound.

Huh, that was weird. Managing to fluster Bones was no easy feat, but shutting him up? That’s rare. She could proudly say she's done it twice before, but this one felt different. Feeling like she was on the verge of something awkward, she decided to change the subject as quickly as possible.

“Besides, next time… I’m finally going to beat Sulu at his own game.” She declared, breathing an inward sigh of relief as he immediately latched onto the distraction.

“What happened to ‘never getting into another sword fight’?” He narrowed his eyes.

“I crossed my fingers when I said that.”

He threw his hands up in the air. “I cannot fathom how someone would let you be the Chief Security Officer on this ship!” He exclaimed dramatically, not for the first time, but only earned a grin from her.

“Obviously someone saw how awesome I am.”

“Obviously!” He repeated sarcastically. She snorted and watched his hands work on the cut Sulu so graciously gave her, admiring the way his long fingers gently applied a healing ointment on her wound. His hands were steady, precise, practiced in the art of taking care of someone. His fingernails were better manicured than hers could ever hope to be, cut with a surgeon's precision. He had a few scars, faint white lines decorating his skin, along with a few freckles. His touch was soft, so soft she barely felt it, and she wondered, not for the first time, how a man with such a strong personality could be so gentle. Be so kind.

Despite his sardonic wit, brusque demeanor and his immense hatred for stupidity, Leonard kept surprising her with just how big his heart was. He was compassionate and cared deeply about all living things. He could curse your entire bloodline whilst nursing you gently back to health. He could hate space with a burning passion but still follow you into a black hole to make sure you were alright. They could be in the middle of an argument about her clumsiness (or lack thereof, in her opinion) and he’d still grab her just as she was about to fall over, which would’ve won him the argument. She thought about that moment embarrassingly often.

One of his hands picked hers up and cradled it, warm and comforting, as the other picked up a dermal regenerator and let the soft glow illuminate her hand. She barely registered the warmth from the regenerator, the feel of Leonard’s hands was way too distracting. She tried not to think about the fact that he did not need to hold her like that, she’s seen him use the dermal regenerator a million times by now and he never touches someone during the process. It was unnecessary. Yet there he was…

Her heart was hammering in her chest. Silently cursing, she tried to regain control over her traitorous body before the doctor could notice. She was fighting the urge to shiver… and the instinct to grab his face and kiss him.

I’m gonna go insane. I’m gonna go insane because of Leonard’s McCoy’s hands.

“Did you remember to take your medicine this morning?” He suddenly asked, frowning at the report on his tricorder. She shook herself, realizing he had finished wrapping her hand whilst she had her private freak-out. He still gently held her hand with one of his, thumb stroking her palm as the screen distracted him.

She fought the urge to scream and melt into a puddle, simultaneously.

“Uh… yeah! Of course.” She lied. Crap. She totally forgot. He didn’t seem to believe her in the slightest.

“Oh, really?” He arched an eyebrow and stared her down. Usually she could stare back all day with the same stubborn attitude as him, but she was so distracted by the feel of his thumb - he's still doing it! - and silently cursed when she felt her face heat up. Looking away, she decided to just give in.

“Okay, I forgot.” She mumbled and he threw his hands in the air. Her shoulders subtly sagged as his hand left hers. Thank god, having a heart attack because of a thumb would've been embarrassing.

“I swear to god, do I need to physically come to your quarters and shove them down your throat so you’ll remember?” He shook his head at her and she would’ve thought he was furious if it wasn’t for the way he looked at her.

That look. God, she knew she had an unhealthy addiction for the man but he did not help when he looked at her like that. Like he was secretly loving this ridiculous thing between them, too. Like their bantering fueled him as much as it fueled her. She mentally begged her face to return to its original color and looked at him pointedly, with crossed arms, faking bravado. His eyebrows inched up as he mimicked her movements.

“I’d like to see you try.” She tried to sound intimidating but couldn‘t fight the smile growing on her face.

“Oh, I will.” He said, leaning forward, the corners of his mouth twitching. For a moment they simply stared at each other, competing in a wordless game, eyes locked in a heated battle, when the sudden clearing of a throat prompted them to look up at a grinning Jim.

“Okay, so whenever you guys are done flirting, I need you to go on a mission.” His grin grew wider as the two people in front of him blushed and Leonard took a step back, furrowing his brows and fiddling with his tricorder. She was about to retort when the latter part of Jim’s sentence registered and her heart stuttered for a different reason.

“A mission? I’m in.” She beamed and was about to jump off the bed when a hand stopped her.

“Oh ho, no, you’re not, you’re hurt.” Leonard kept his hand on her arm to hold her in place. Again with the touching! She rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine, see?” She flexed her bandaged hand for them to see, it was still painful, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

“It could be challenging and considering you’re still healing, I’m not clearing you. You’re not going.” Leonard‘s tone indicated there was no room for arguments but unluckily for him, she could always argue.

“I’m going.” She whacked his hand away and jumped off the bed.

“You’re not going.” He tried to push her back on her bed but she wouldn’t budge.

“I’m going!” She said with determination. They started staring each other down again, ignoring Jim‘s chuckles beside them.

“Aw look at you two; you’re like an old married couple!” He cooed and successfully made them stop to glare at him.

“Shut up, Jim!” They said simultaneously, making Jim double over with laughter. She grimaced. He was definitely going to tease them about that. She just hoped it wouldn’t be in public, like the last time.

“Captain, permission to go on this mission?” She turned to Jim fully, ignoring Leonard‘s attempts to get her to sit down.

“Permission granted.” He nodded as he tried to catch his breath and she turned to Leonard with a triumphant smile.

“See? Captains’ orders.”

“Jim!“ He yelled at the Captain. „Well I say she can‘t, Doctor‘s orders.“

„Which one is more important?“ She stage-whispered to Jim and he opened his mouth to reply when Leonard cut him off.

„Mine.“ Fine, he wants to be stubborn? She‘ll just have to resort to desperate measures. Sighing dramatically, she melted away the tension in her body and took a step towards him.

„Len…" His eyebrow quirked at her quiet tone, but she ignored it and plowed through. "I really want to get outside, you know how uncomfortable I can get all cooped up in here. Remember the last time I skipped a mission? I almost went insane! It’s not like it’s my dominant hand, anyway...“ She gave him her best puppy dog eyes, hoping to god he‘ll just let her go. She was glad the Med-Bay was nearly empty at this point, her reputation would be in ruins at this pathetic display.

Darn him and his ability to make her chuck away her own pride.

He looked like he was about to argue, but she stopped him before he could by bringing out the big guns. "Please?"

She absolutely hated using that word and he knew it. She could tell he was going over her argument in his head and debating whether it was worth it. Glaring at her for a moment longer, he pinched his nose and let his shoulders drop.

„Fine, but I’m giving you a boost so your skin heals faster, even though I’m not supposed to, and you have to promise to stay close.” He relented and jabbed a finger at her. She jumped and beamed at him and he visibly softened.

“Don’t I always?” She gave his arm a squeeze as a thank you. He shook his head, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Why do I even try?” He muttered. She just wiggled her eyebrows in response, already skipping away to get herself ready for the mission.

„Wait, that worked?“ Jim suddenly piped up, confused as to what just happened.

„Shut up, Jim.“

“-It’s a desert area, but there is a forest nearby that we can’t really get a reading on, we’ll just try to stay away from it for now, just in case.” Suited up and struggling with an armful of equipment, she listened to Jim drone on about the mission whilst the rest of the team gathered on the transportation pads. It was a simple run of sample collection but since it was mostly unknown territory, security was required to keep watch. The bright eyed new security recruit and her would have the exciting job of just standing there. But at least she's getting outside. Just the thought of the wind in her hair had her buzzing in excitement.

“Just in case?” Leonard froze and she chuckled.

“It’ll be fine, Len, like Jim said, we’ll only be a few hours.” She shot him a grin and he muttered curses under his breath and something that sounded like ‘fine, my ass’ but she couldn’t be sure as the feeling of transportation took over and her feet sunk in sand.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the sudden hot air. It was warm, almost overbearingly so, and there was a sickly sweet smell in the air. The air, god, there wasn't much wind but the subtle caress on her skin was enough to make her head tilt back and grin towards the sky. Her eyes opened to a captivating mix of pink and purple. Three yellow moons stretched across the atmosphere and she was overwhelmingly glad she got Leonard to stop arguing like a paranoid mule and let her join. She looked down to comment on it when something made her freeze.

She was alone.

Spinning around in confusion only gave her more questions than answers. The sand under her boots seemed to cover a rocky landscape which was dotted with strange cacti-like plants. They were tall, but not tall enough to be trees. Their thorns were larger than that of a cactus and made walking around them difficult. They cast dark shadows that stretched across the barren ground, only interrupted by a few pathetic looking bushes.

It was quiet. The kind of quiet that made you flinch at the sound of your own breath.

She fought the sudden surge of panic as she hastily searched for her comm, ready to ask what the hell was going on, when a voice suddenly piped up from it, making her jump.

“Landing party has successfully reached its destination.” Jim's voice sounded distorted. Was her comm broken?

“Uh, sorry to burst your bubble, Jim, but I think I’ve lost you.” She spoke into the comm as she started walking around, trying to catch sight of her team.

“What?” A pause. “Wait, where the hell are you Flynn?!”

“Ah, Captain, something ----- happened with the transport-----at caused Flynn to be transported els------.” Scotty's voice sounded even worse and he kept cutting out. She turned her comm around, assessing for damage. It seemed fine.

“What do you mean elsewhere? Where is she?” Jim was starting to sound as panicked as she felt. She had a bad feeling in her gut and she couldn’t shake it. She thought she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and swiveled only to be met with another blasted cactus. She raised the comm to her mouth again, eyes fixated on the plant.

“Jim, when you said forest, was it possibly a forest made of… uh, cacti-looking things?” She asked in a low voice and gripped the equipment in her arms tighter.

“She’s in the forest?! The ‘let’s stay clear of those, just in case’ forest?” Leonard’s voice both soothed her and panicked her even further with its words. Yep, something was definitely off. She looked around again, the back of her neck prickling with the feeling of being watched.

“Calm down, Len, I’m sure Scotty can beam me away…. Right, Scotty?” She tried to calm down enough to reassure them both. She would be fine, Scotty would sweep in any second and beam her up. She was met with silence. “Scotty?”

“Ah, eh, no, not exactly— can’t detect— there’s something in there—- disturbing the process.” He sounded apologetic, but she stopped listening halfway through. She saw movement again, this time right in front of her. Did that… no, did it?

“…any idea of what it is?” Jim asked. The movement happened again, this time enough to confirm her suspicions. Before she could react, the cactus in front of her literally started moving towards her.

“Holy shit!”

________________________________________________

sorry to end on a cliffhanger lmao >:) tell me what you think! part 2 should be up in the next couple of days! it will be longer ;)

#Leonard McCoy #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #leonard mccoy x oc #leonard mccoy x you #star trek fanfiction #karl urban x reader #fanfiction #bones x oc

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denimbex1986 · 7 months

Text

'David Tennant will front a BBC4 documentary delving into classic Doctor Who ahead of the sci-fi's 60th anniversary.

Talking Doctor Who will see Tennant, who played the Tenth Doctor and who is now returning as the Fourteenth Doctor for the upcoming 60th anniversary specials, travel back through the BBC archives to tell the story of the classic era of Doctor Who.

The documentary will also include archive interviews from past Doctors, including the late William Hartnell, who played the First Doctor, through to Sylvester McCoy, who played the Seventh Doctor.

Tennant will also share some insights into what it's like to be the Time Lord and how his experiences compare to his predecessors.

The hour-long programme is set to air on Wednesday 1st November.

It was recently revealed that much of Doctor Who's classic series will be coming to BBC iPlayer for the first time in celebration of the show's 60th anniversary.

More than 800 episodes will be available on iPlayer from 1st November - however, the BBC recently confirmed that the back catalogue won't include the very first story, An Unearthly Child, due to a rights issue.

A spokesperson for the BBC said: "This massive iPlayer back catalogue will be home to over 800 hours of Doctor Who content, making it the biggest ever collection of Doctor Who programming in one place but will not include the first four episodes as we do not have all the rights to those."

Returning showrunner Russell T Davies had previously said: "I'd like to thank the BBC for all the hard work to get this massive back catalogue under one roof, at long last.

"I'm so excited for new viewers – imagine being eight years old, spending winter afternoons exploring the '60s, '70s, '80s and beyond. And we're determined this won't be a dusty museum – we have exciting plans to bring the back catalogue to life, with much more to be revealed!"'

#Doctor Who #David Tennant #BBC Four #William Hartnell #Sylvester McCoy #BBC iPlayer #An Unearthly Child #Russell T. Davies #Talking Doctor Who

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rmoonstoner · 9 months

Text

***

Poisoned Empanadas

***

Pairing:

Moon Knight (Jake Lockley) x Spider!fem!reader

Spider-Man 2099 (Miguel O'Hara) x Spider!fem!reader

***

18+

Warnings:

Violence, strong language, mentions of death, mentions of depression, sexual themes, volatile emotions, dats a big boi, dats an angry boi, reader gets hurt, whumpy, hit-you-in-the-feels, why are they so sweet?

***

Summary:

Miguel goes out on patrol with you and your friends. Something noteworthy happens. We see a side of your ex that you don't get to.

***

Chapter 6 - Panades, Belize

This empanada is from Belize. Like many other Empanadas, they are usually crescent shaped and packed full of white fish and a variety of beans, sometimes with cheese and other meats. The shell is made of corn flour, giving it a yellow color, and is deep fried in lard until fully cooked and golden and crispy on the outside. It is typically serced with salsa made of onions, cabbage, and peppers.

***

The next morning.

Everyone was seated around the table, except for Stephen and Miguel. Stephen had made it clear that there would be a mandatory meeting this morning, before anyone was allowed to leave for the day.

"What do you think? Is the doc gonna find a missing Spider?" Gwen asked.

"Pffft. If that man is smart, he wouldn't dare leave." America laughed as she jotted down some quick notes for class without even looking up.

"I dunno. He broke my arm. It takes a lot to do that." Peter huffed. America stopped and looked up at Peter with a deadpan expression.

"He what?"

"Yeah, but it's fine. Stephen fixed me up as good as new. Miguel even apologized! I believe his apology was genuine."

"That's not good enough, Peter! He owes you, now. He broke into your building that you inherited from Tony. He beat you up and shattered your arm. You're lucky Stephen was available!" Gwen complained, while America hummed in agreement.

"Shhh, I hear them coming down the stairs!" You hissed at them both and you picked up your tea to feign like you were occupied.

Stephen had Miguel marching into the room in street clothing. Miguel was in simple blue sweatpants, some white sneakers, red socks, and a tight fitting black tee with a faded Led Zeppelin logo on the front. Miguel had a frown and he seemed to squint at the bright lights of the kitchen. He grumbled as he took a seat next to you and started to rub his eyes generously.

"Damn. You look awful." Gwen declared while looking at the large man that was hunched over the table.

"Mmmhmmm." Miguel huffed back. When he removed his hands, he was still squinting badly. He looked like he was hungover.

"He will be fine. He's light sensitive." Stephen said while the lights dimmed and the curtains in the kitchen windows closed. He set down a pair of red sunglasses beside Miguel and patted his back.

"These have special lenses. A friend of mine, Doctor Hank McCoy, developed them for a colleague of his. They should help with your sensitive eyes and also if you happen to have hellfire spewing from them." As he explained the glasses, Miguel snatched them up and put them on.

Stephen was quick to set the table for breakfast with a simple hand gesture and he motioned for everyone to dig in. The moment a steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of Miguel, he took it and guzzled it down. He didn't even make a face at the temperature, and merely sighed happily as the caffeine flooded his system.

Everyone ate and talked. Stephen and Peter were discussing the genetic testing he was doing at the lab, and how it was set back a few months for obvious reasons. One of which was sitting there, trying to be invisible. Gwen was helping America with her notes by making flash cards versions of them.

And that left you and Miguel to sit there awkwardly. Miguel was listening to Peter talk about his experiments. You sipped your tea and poked the food around your plate until it was eventually all gone. When breakfast was done and cleaned up, America left through a portal, while Peter and Gwen followed her.

"You're free to leave, if you want, but please remember that when I summon your presence, you better come running." Stephen said as he waved his hand dismissively.

You gawked at him. Whatever discussion they had, they certainly weren't letting on about anything they talked about. Miguel was quick to get up and leave, only stopping briefly at the door to say his goodbyes.

"So, uh… I'll see ya tonight? Sanctum roof?" You asked. He sighed and nodded.

"Yeah. The doctor said I have to stay within sight of one of you four. I assume that includes the black and red Spider-Man?"

"Yeah. He was the new kid, before I came along." You laughed and rubbed the back of your neck. Miguel chuckled and turned to leave.

"If I show up early, can we get pizza again?" He turned back to give you a dopey grin. You blushed and agreed.

"Yeah. We can get pizza." Miguel gave you that adorable fangy grin and he left before he said something stupid.

He made his way down the steps and towards the general direction to his hotel. Miguel's brain was filled with images of the night ahead.

The doctor had basically given him an old school vibe of; 'If you hurt my daughter in anyway, shape, or form, I'll blast you with my boomstick.' The daughter being you, and the boomstick probably being some sort of magic spell pulled from the depths of Hell or something.

The other Spiders were mentioned as well, with him being just as clear about not hurting them either. Miguel understood why. He did kind of severely damage Peter's arm.

But, the man made it very clear he wouldn't tolerate Miguel playing around with you if he wasn't serious, or if you weren't interested. Stephen said, no, he demanded, that Miguel was absolutely not allowed to come on to you first. No intentional flirtatious behaviour or comments, unless you initiated it first, any sex that could happen, he needed your explicit and coherent consent.

No drugs. No alcohol.

No consent. No sex.

It was terrifying and awkward for Miguel to sit there like a shrinking lump in a massive chair. He felt like some awkward and scared teenager in the fifties, and not a grown ass man from the not so distant future, with superpowers and a couple of doctorates.

The fact he was technically a doctor as well didn't even cross Stephen's mind. He knew first hand that having a doctorate didn't make you a good person. He was more worried about the kind of person Miguel was. Miguel didn't even know that yet. He had lost who he was and he was still figuring himself out.

Miguel suddenly smiled at the thought of the major loophole to the wizard's words.

If you initiated the flirting first, he could roll with it. Stephen didn't give him any sort of level to adhere by, except for explicit sober consent from you.

He had a sudden thought that you were still watching him through the window, and he stopped to look over his shoulder. You were there, up on the window where people normally shouldn't be, smiling, your face lighting up when he locked eyes with you and you began to wave in a silly manner. He waved back and felt his face heat up even more. The heat was threatening to sneak on down to his nether regions, but with a quick thought process change, he saved himself from a surprise erection.

What also helped that surprise erection disappear, were the sudden 'ooo's' and 'ah's' and kissing sounds coming from Lyla.

"Shhh. Stop it. Please?" He covered the faceplate of the watch with that deep heat in his cheeks returning full force.

"You like her." She giggled back.

Miguel didn't answer. He started to walk again and picked up his pace as he swiped away Lyla's face and began going through his messages. Stephen had given Lyla the app details and she downloaded the program. It was an app that Peter and the others had worked on for communications between the Spiders and the different hero factions they were a part of.

He saw he was added to three chats. One was the room for the Spiders, and it was named 'Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiders'. Since being added only that morning, there had been an overwhelmingly large amount of texts. He decided to wait until he got back to his hotel to check those.

Another was set to an unnamed chat that contained Stephen, America, Peter, and you. He assumed that was the house chat.

And the last chat thread had been started with just your name at the top of the box. That one made a deep grin form onto his face. It was a simple, yet funny greeting.

5:01am

You:

Hello there, handsome. It's me, the bane of your existence! Lol.

He happily replied and sent back a message.

9:23am

Miguel:

Haha, very funny.

As he was sending the message, he heard a car door open to his left. With a quick sidestep, he avoided the door. A man got out and slammed the door shut as he turned away from Miguel. His collar was up, hiding his face, while the man wore a newsboy cap with the rim over his eyes. The man lit up a cigarette and appeared to be leaning on the cab as he typed away on his phone. He was clearly agitated.

Miguel didn't want to have a hassle with some random guy right after leaving your presence, while still in full view of the Sanctum. He promised the wizard that he would behave himself during his stay here.

That cabbie brought the phone up his ear, and his voice went from frustrated and angry to calm and collected. He wasn't calm for very long, and he started to cry and rub at his face with his sleeve as he pleaded into the microphone.

"Hola. Last call for now. I'll try again tomorrow if I haven't heard from ya by then.-" The sound of that man's voice hit Miguel's ears and he felt a knot twist in his gut. He sounded so God damned familiar, and he couldn't place why.

*- I miss you, my pretty little star, mi estrella. Te extraño mucho. Please consider giving me a call. Te amo…"

And there it was.

The Spanish accent that sounded a little too close to his own. The jet black hair that was slicked under the back of the man's hat and over his olive skin. The little nickname he had heard clear as day in his dream. The one the grey suited man had affectionately referred to you as, right before Miguel took his place.

He took a quick glance at the license plate and subtly took a picture of it with his watch. He even got the man in the photo frame as well. After, he took a video of him typing away on his phone and he turned his head, as if he were about to look at Miguel.

Miguel was quick to speed up and leave, turning down an alleyway and going to his hotel as he shot you a text to message him if you needed him for any reason. The man only caught a streak of him leaving and thought nothing of it as he got back into his cab and drove off.

***

When Miguel left, you found yourself quickly clambering up the wall to the large circular symbol in the glass. You peered out the window to watch him walk away while Stephen chuckled and gave you privacy. You were sure you looked insane, like a gecko stuck to a glass tank, sideways, face close to the glass, but not exactly touching it.

Miguel's ass looked quite nice in those sweats as he was walking away. Your eyes followed him as his form got smaller and smaller. He turned around and saw you, which made you blush and bite your lower lip. You waved. He waved. You smiled. He smiled. He turned around and kept going, and your eyes lowered back down to his rear. It wasn't until he nearly collided with a car door, when your eyes darted away from that scrumptious bottom.

Your heart dropped.

It was Jake. He was wearing a scowl as he absently tossed a middle finger at Miguel for nearly getting in his way and he slammed his door. The sound was so loud, you could hear it. You even saw Miguel wince and quickly move away from him, but not too far as he stared at the audacity of the other man. It didn't look like he had seen Jake's face. If he did, you just knew he would have stopped dead in his tracks and confronted him.

You watched as your heart sped up, thudding harshly in your chest as Jake didn't even look back at Miguel while he pulled out his phone. You gulped as you heard your phone down on the table start to ring and vibrate against the old wood. All you could do was dumbly look down at it while it skittered about making a horrible buzzing noise accompanied with Jake's ringtone.

After six rings, it stopped and the lights went dim. You sighed in relief and relaxed, but then it started to buzz again. You let go of the window and dropped to the floor, eyes not leaving the device. You brought both hands to rest against the table as you leaned over it, glaring when you saw his name flashing across the screen, along with the one photo of his stupid face in that stupid hat of his that you forgot to remove from the phone contact list.

Again the phone stopped, and this time it went to voice-mail. The phone was quiet for a moment, until the voice-mail registered and the screen lit up while the phone vibrated to alert you to a new message.

You let go another heavy breath of air and relaxed, resting your head against the desk and sighing. Maybe he had given up, maybe he wasn't. You had no way of knowing.

However, you did know that Jake must have come back and seen the car missing. He must have panicked when he saw that the house was stripped bare of anything you owned. He was probably actively looking for you.

But he had no idea where you were, right?

Right?

You bit your lower lip and picked up the phone, going straight to look at the alerts and call history. You could see one from Miguel, but it had to wait until you inspected the ones from Jake, first.

Jake had actually called you five times. He left four voice mails. Before listening to them, you checked your text messages. He had sent you around ten of them, right after you had sent Miguel a message and put the phone down for breakfast.

***

6:37am

Jake:

Heya, doll. I'll be coming into town in thirty. See you soon. I missed you a whole lot.

7:02am

Jake:

You still like those Redbulls? I got a couple cases of the ones ya like.

7:07am

You have missed a call from Jake Lockley.

7:08am

You have a new voice-mail from Jake Lockley.

7:10am

Jake:

Is this a joke? Real funny.

7:16am

Jake:

Mi estrella? Hello?

7:21am

Jake:

I talked to the neighbors. They said they saw you packing and getting rid of things. Did you go to the school you were talking about? I must have forgotten.

7:29am

You have missed a call from Jake Lockley.

7:32am

You have a new voice-mail from Jake Lockley.

7:43am

Jake:

Where are you?

7:46am

Jake:

I found the sale papers for the car. Why did you sell it? Was there something wrong with it? Why did you sell it to Clint?

8:07am

Jake:

I called Clint. He said you sold it to him like two weeks after I left. Said you didn't need it and never used it. I'm not mad or upset. It's your car. I'm going to go grab some breakfast and call ya in a bit.

8:45am

You have missed a call from Jake Lockley.

8:50am

You have a new voice-mail from Jake Lockley.

9:13am

Jake:

I am getting worried, here. At least respond to me, so I know you're safe.

9:20am

You have missed a call from Jake Lockley.

9:27am

You have a missed call from Jake Lockley.

9:28am

You have a new voice-mail from Jake Lockley.

9:30am

Jake:

Please, sweetheart. Please reply. I know I said we were on a break, but I came back. I just had to see you. I have only a week, before I gotta go back. I'm sorry. Please, mi estrella?

The messages were sweet and sad. Your heart panged for Jake. He was acting lost without you. He wasn't even showing any signs of being angry. He was clearly worried about you and your safety.

You dialed up your voice-mail and waited to hear his voice.

"Hola! How is my beautiful girl, eh? I see a lot of empty space. What's going on here? Are you renovating? The mailbox is pretty full."

When the message finished playing, you frowned. He sounded nervous, like he was pretending to be optimistic and happy. You could hear the disappointment in his voice. You waited for the next one to play.

"Did you… Did you go to that university that you were talking about? Ya said something about a Stark scholarship a few times. It looks to me like… Like ya moved out. I hope not. There's literally nothing of yours left here, except the junk mail. Uh, anyways, please shoot me a call back."

Now his voice had melted into a hollow tone. You almost cried, but you held them back.

You remembered how violent and volatile he was towards others. Miles had seen him beat the crap out of a few people. Gwen had reported seeing him yelling at gang members... And both Peter and Stephen had some not so nice things to say about him. What if his next voice-mails were rude and belligerent?

What if he threatened you?

"Hola, sweetheart! I am just calling to be sure you know that I support whatever decision you are making. I know you're probably mad at me right now. I get that. That's okay. If you don't want to see me again, please just let me know. I promise I'll leave you alone, once I know that you are okay. Please?"

Your heart broke at his begging and pleading. His voice was cracking and he sounded like he was sniffling. Was he crying? He never did that around you.

"Hola. Last call for now. I'll try again tomorrow if I haven't heard from ya by then. I miss you, my pretty little star, mi estrella. Te extraño mucho. Please consider giving me a call. Te amo…"

By now Jake sounded quite depressed. He wasn't yet giving up, but for today he claimed that he was.

But wait… Did he just admit to loving you? You had to play the message again, and it made you feel both extremely good, and terribly sad.

Now you were crying as you set the phone down. You paced around the room for a long moment, then remembered he was just down the street. With a quick couple of jumps and flips, you got back up to the window and looked to see if he was still there. You completely missed your phone's muffled buzzing again as it sat on your sweater.

He was just getting back into his cab and you cursed to yourself. There would be no way to chase him down with the way he drove. You had a hunch he was looking around the city for any sign of you. You thought about telling someone of what you saw, but then that would just freak everyone out for no reason. You decided to wait and see what happened and kept it a secret for now. You weren't going to reply, not yet anyways, but he'd know you read the messages.

***

Jake was anxious as he walked through a park he used to take you to. It was close to the bridge, with his favorite taco truck near by. He always enjoyed looking at the lights up there. He once admitted to you that he would sit here and smoke weed while watching the Spider-Folk go about their business across the buildings in the night sky.

What he didn't reveal, was that he was there to specifically watch you. How he adored your outfit and the way you'd gracefully leap about with those lights, or swing with your webs. He missed coming out at night for his cabbie job, because he spent most of the night following you around, making sure you were safe.

He even kept his secrets to himself, secrets that would have made everything easier for the both of you if only you knew.

It was the middle of the day, and he sighed as he sat down on a bench with a couple of pork carnitas and watched the boats on the water go by. He chain smoked for a while and eventually went back to his car to drive around for a few hours. He didn't catch any sight of you, but he did see Bruce Banner walking with Natasha Romanoff, hand in hand.

That image made him feel smaller. He had that with you, and he just had to go and fuck it up by not being honest with you.

By nightfall, he found himself driving lazily down a strip of cheap motels with bars and pubs across the street. He wanted to keep himself occupied and his mind off of you, so he went looking for fares.

A few hours in, he'd made a good chunk of money. A bunch of college frat boys needed rides up to a dormitory, and that took up most of his time to make three separate trips. He didn't mind. It was a fair and honest rate and they all tipped him quite well. One of them even handed him a bottle of whiskey and a bag of weed, before he stumbled off to his dorm.

Jake was just making a turn down Bleeker street when he noticed a sparkle of orange on the roof. His foot hit the pedal and he sped up to get closer. Once he was close enough, he parked the cab and got out to get a better look.

There on the roof was one of those portals he'd heard so much about. Jake frowned and watched as you leapt on through and set off some lights into the air. A moment later, a black and red Spider-Man was zipping towards the roof from the left, while the white Ghost-Spider came flying down from the right.

Jake's frown grew wider at the sight of that, but he was relieved that he didn't see the large Spider-Man. He was almost going to call you again, but when he checked his messages, he saw that you left him on read.

He sighed and almost gave up. He decided to have another cigarette and a drink from the booze he was given as he waited a few more minutes, before he would consider leaving you alone.

He was half way through his cigarette when a very tall man walked past him while talking to his watch. He was wearing a baseball cap, his hair falling out the sides and hiding his face. He was wearing sunglasses. At night. Jake raised an eyebrow, but the man was fully occupied. Whatever. He wasn't important. It didn't matter anyways, as the guy just dipped into the pizza place and out of sight.

His attention was caught by the OG Spider-Man walking through the portal, and you going back inside. He grumbled about that, hoping you'd come back out soon.

***

It was exactly an hour before the meet up time, and Miguel was patiently waiting in line to make the pizza order. He was getting what he got last time, while you had sent him a list of what everyone else wanted. There was an extra large pepperoni and mushroom for Miles and Gwen, a pesto linguini for the doctor, and two boxes of wings for you and Peter. After he ordered and got the food, he made his way back to the Sanctum.

On his short little walk, he passed by a cabbie faced away from him that was smoking and drinking a rye and coke in a can. The light was off on the cab, and the man looked exhausted as he blankly stared ahead and power smoked what smelled like weed to Miguel. He chuckled and passed by the poor tired man without another thought, without even looking at his face.

It was New York at night after all.

When Miguel arrived at the Sanctum doors, you greeted him and beamed at the food in his arms

"Heya, big guy! Good to see you!" You said while grabbing his arm. With a tug, you went trotting over to the library, Miguel happily following you and enjoying your hand on his bicep. The door closed itself and Miguel noticed, finding it creepy.

"Stephen! The food is here! Can you please open up a portal to the roof, again? His hands are full." You asked the doctor, who had been peacefully doing Sudoku a moment ago. He looked up at you, then at the bags in Miguel's hands, then raised a brow.

"Oh, uh, before we go up, here's your green pasta." Miguel quickly handed the man his take out box. Stephen's mouth just barely curled upwards, showing Miguel that the man was appreciative of the meal.

"Thank you. The others are waiting upstairs." Stephen said as he opened a portal and went right to work unboxing and eating his food with chopsticks that appeared from thin air. When you got through the portal, Miles stood up and pointed.

"That's the guy?!" He was not subtle, nor was he quiet about his shock and clear disdain for seeing Miguel's face.

"Yes, Miles. That's the guy." Gwen said as she grabbed his arm and tugged him back a bit. The young man was furious to see that face.

"Ya got some nerve, Lockley! Showing your face after what you did to her!" Miles hissed. In an instant Gwen had slapped her hand over his mouth and quietly apologized to Miguel. You decided to speak up and explain.

"Miles. This is Miguel O'Hara. This is not Jake Lockley. Yes, they look a lot alike, but this man isn't my ex. He is one of us. Please welcome him."

"Yeah. He's alright." Peter piped up. Miguel gave him a confused looking eyebrow raise at the lack of mentioning the broken arm. Was Peter just going to pretend it didn't happen? Either way, his calmness was bleeding through to Miles, and the young man calmed down enough to sit.

"Miguel will be patrolling with us from now on. I figure having a massive brick wall on the team will help out with all the smaller Spiders we have." Peter continued as he dug into the food.

Okay. So it did look like he wasn't going to mention the arm.

"What powers does he have?" Miles asked.

"Uh, the usual spider stuff. I have super strength, stamina, speed, agility, dexterity, durability… I can jump thirty feet, more if I absolutely have to. I have sharp fangs that secrete a paralyzing toxin…" He opened his mouth and showed Miles his teeth.

"... Oh, and I have retractable claws." He finished as he held his hands up to show his talons. Miles gawked then looked up at Miguel's face.

"What spider bit you? Did you see it?" Miles asked. Miguel's face scrunched up in annoyance.

"Uh… Well, about that… I did this to myself."

"What!?"

"Yeah… I was experimenting with genetics, and I had a sample of some superhuman Spider DNA, then an accident happened at work, and well… This happened. I bulked up over night, got taller, and I could see better… But I now have an intolerance to bright lights." He explained it like it wasn't a big deal. You suspected there was more to it, but you didn't dare ask in front of the others.

You just wanted to get through tonight.

***

"I don't understand. We have business to attend to, my son." A gravelly voice boomed through the silent night.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I have time." Jake's voice replied. The sounds of metal clicked and snapped, and a flame lit the dark alley up once again. His face was visible, a white stick stuck in the corner of his mouth as he puffed away.

"You have exactly seven days. Seven days, and you go back to Egypt, no matter what." The louder voice hissed, while the quieter and calmer man shot a death glare at the other.

"Mierda, get off my back. You know I'll get us back there in time."

"Are you sure? You said that the last time, and Steven woke up in a ditch, covered in blood, when he had just been at work for a double shift." The comment drew a string of silent curses from Jake as he tapped his cigarette.

"That was my mistake. I didn't get back before the sun came up. At least there was a dead deer on the road, so he just assumed he hit it."

"On his bicycle? Really?"

"Whaddya want from me? They still have no idea I exist."

"Uh huh. They also have no idea you've been dicking down a Spider for the last three years, while Marc's been married to Layla for half of that time."

"It doesn't matter. They broke up when she found out about you."

"That's what you think. Marc left of his own accord and he lied to her about me. Steven wants them to go back to her."

"Not gonna happen. I just know if Steven and Marc see my sweet Galaxy-Spider, they'll love her, too. They'll forget all about their Scarlet Scarab."

"What? You think they will just magically forget about their wife?"

"No, but they will choose her over Layla. I am sure of it. Besides, Steven only just found out about Marc and Layla. He's only ever kissed her once." Jake argued as he summoned his suit.

"Jake, my son… Will they not be furious to find out there's another alter, and that he's been in a committed relationship for this long, with absolutely no sign of it? You basically made Marc into a cheating scumbag, without his knowledge, and Steven by association as he's made it clear that he wants Layla."

"It's different. We are different. Different lives-"

"But will she see it that way? What about Layla? She doesn't deserve this shit, and she's Taweret's Avatar now. She is fully aware that Marc has DID." The old bird said simply. Silence permeated the air as Jake power smoked the rest of his cigarette. Khonshu cleared his throat, then continued.

"And what of your precious little star Spider? Do you think she's going to be happy to find out about Layla? Or that she's married to Marc?"

More silence as Jake refused to look at his boss.

"You really think she's just going to jump back into your arms after you left like that?"

"Of course she will, it's a silent understanding."

"Riiight. And this has absolutely nothing to do with that explicit nightmare you had the other night?"

More silence.

"You better keep the dark suit on, then. It's harder to see than your white and black suit." The loud voice rumbled.

Jake didn't reply as he snuffed his smoke out between his gloved fingers and threw the butt away. He straightened his jacket and adjusted his tie while looking at himself in the windshield of the yellow taxi.

"Mierda …" Once satisfied, a dark grey mask slowly materialized onto his face, stitching itself up over his left eye. He slowly removed his hat and threw it inside of the trunk of the cab, then turned to watch the Sanctum.

He saw four different colored lines zip across the sky to a tall building, while multiple blobs of lights were deployed in the sky. Soon after, five colorful shapes were dashing across the horizon. Jake scowled when he saw another, much larger Spider with them. He took a deep breath and set off in a run to follow them in the shadows.

***

The night was going…

Well, it was going.

Between the four of you, you managed to nab a few gangsters each and drop them off at the police station. You had performed nicely, and had even forgotten the fact that Miguel was a new addition to the team. He seemed to understand what you were doing and didn't need to be verbally told.

Miles was eager to show Miguel his own powers, by demonstrating them on the four guys, right before he had caught them, while Miguel watched them drop like electrocuted flies. Gwen wasn't eager to show off at all, and her and Peter had stayed by the group they had already collected. That just left three guys to round up, and you went after them once Miles began to tie up the ones he grabbed.

Miguel was quick to follow you. He waited for your signals, and he followed your nonverbal commands perfectly. When you pointed to two guys trying to make their way through a crowded street where people were leaving from the clubs and bars. They were obviously trying to blend in, and it almost worked, but your eyes spotted them easily, as did Miguel's. Unfortunately you didn't see where the third one went.

You each picked a side of the street, concealing yourselves in the shadows as you followed them to the bus terminal by the club owned by a local gang leader. If they went inside, you would lose them, and then it would be you and Miguel tucking tail and running.

Miguel found an opening and he gave you a look and quick gesture towards the one that was going around the back of the building. You nodded, and he shot off towards the man at a terrifying speed that sent vibrations through the pavement that you could clearly feel.

That left the other guy, now leaving the safety of the crowds at a run. He moved fast for a big and out of shape guy, but you were certain that you could catch him in time. You pulled some orbs of light into existence right in front of the guy to surprise him. He screamed and swerved away from the gang hideout.

Shooting a few webs at his legs, you managed to catch him. Just as the thrill of it hit your veins, you were hit over the back of the head and passed out.

***

Miguel had seen it all happen. He was tasked to take down the one guy, while she was sent to fetch the other. He made quick work of his target, and just as he was coming back around the corner, his target tied and slung over his shoulder while he kicked and squirmed, Miguel witnessed the third man come out of the hideout and run at the other Spider. Miguel dropped the guy in his grip and sped forward.

As quick as he was, he hit the guy, but he missed the trash can lid that flew out of his hands, hitting her directly in the back of the head. He watched in horror as she made a weak sounding sigh and went down like a sack of potatoes.

A blinding rage filled him as he clambered to the man that had caused the blow to her head. The thug skittered back, his face full of terror as Miguel snarled and grabbed him by the leg. With a heavy jerk, he yanked the man towards him and bit him in the leg. The man screamed and kicked at his face.

Miguel let him go, only to watch him stagger a few car lengths away and collapse to the sidewalk. The bite had taken its toll on him, and he was now out cold and twitching. Miguel figured it was safe enough to go check on the Galaxy Spider, but when he went back to the spot she had fallen, she was gone.

Miguel panicked.

If he came back without her, the wizard would certainly be pissed. Not to mention the other Spiders would be just as displeased. Miguel looked around, his eyes darting every which way. A glinting of some sparkles in the alleyway caught his eye, and he was moving towards them with as much stealth as he could muster.

"Shock, this isn't good. My first night on patrol with her, and she gets kidnapped!" Miguel muttered to himself.

"Perhaps you should be careful about this. Approach from the rooftop." Lyla's voice hit his ears and he scaled the wall immediately with his webbing.

Once on the roof, he made his way towards the other end of the alley. He was careful to remain hidden, but in efforts to do so, he couldn't get a good look at who was hauling her away. Every turn they made, he was always just one step behind, just getting a glimpse of the dark silhouette that held a sparkling Spider.

There were a few times he lost sight of them. Lyla couldn't pick up anything from the security cameras in the area, but his nose caught the scent of flowers in the air. He followed the smell. It was paired with whatever scent the man had, which smelled like some sort of designer cologne, mixed with cigarettes, liquor, and blood.

***

Series Masterlist

***

Notes:

I hope you are liking this story so far. Please let me know. Yes, I know I put she/her instead of you at the end. It's from his POV.

***

Special thanks to:

Beta readers/Ideas:

@einno-arko @theaussiedragon

Proofreader:

@iceclaw101

Tags:

@theaussiedragon @autismsupermusicalassassin @readingfan @missdragon-1 @marvelescvpe @lunar-ghoulie @cicithemess2000 @animesnowstorm @mahbeanz @dafuqelaine @bby-lupin @paranoiac-666 @konniebon @cl0v3r-s0up @seraphine-so-pretty @jupitersmoon167 @butterflypillows @ivystoryweaver @mintellaine @bxdbxtxh15 @badbishsblog @cleothegoldfish @xxmadamjinxx @bitchyexpertprincess @sakurayuki8655-blog @jklkverr @jkthinkstoomuch @oscarissac2099 @neteyamsluvts

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gun-chucks · 4 months

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highlights of the star trek comic from 1994 i got at an antique store

very cool cover i want it on a tshirt

TWO COMICS!! i didnt realize it was a special edition

the second comic had a really good colorist/separator- the only criticism i have is that they made sulu a bit too yellow on one of the pages but otherwise pretty solid

theres a nine inch nails the downward spiral ad on the inner front cover. it is the FIRST thing you see.

BLAISE OF GLORY - 1994

immediately following that ad is a comic where kirk fucks and its implied hes got a micropenis

bones implying kirk is married to the enterprise after kirk goes on a hopeless romanic rant

SAAVIK IS HERE

uhura tells rj blaise [kirks love intrests] to look at her hips and blaise goes "im dazzled beyond my ability to speak"

blaise is nonstop is calling kirk out on his mysogyny, his ego, etc, basically calling him a pompous ass: "What do you think you're proving here, huh? That you know better than me? That you're going to rescue the brainless woman from her own problems? Is that it? That is so typical of you!"

also that hes a bad fuck

the problem is resolved because the antagonist is completely fed up with kirk and blaise's bitching and moaning

rj stands for RASPBERRY JAM. HER NAME IS RASPBERRY JAM BLAISE.

some frames i liked

overall 3.3/5, its silly and makes fun of kirk relentlessly

THE NEEDS OF THE ONE - 1994

KOHLINAR SPOCK..... i love his emo haircut

takes place on vulcan pre whales in 4. so naturally its gonna be good.

sulu is also slaying in his suit from 3/4

kirk telling his personal log he understands why sarek doesnt want spock to leave vulcan again by saying "i understood that hollow feeling too well"

mister spock is climbing a mountain why is he climbing a mountain

I-CHAYA MENTIONED

bc of the former spock has another naked time moment where he says "This.... emotion is unworthy! I must be in control."

amanda talks abt how spock had a reckless streak as a kid and they thought he fucking DIED because of how long hed been GONE.

kirk sees a scrap of fabric from spocks robe and says "...my heart fell"

AMOK TIME MENTIONED. SPOCK RELIVES THE EVENTS OF AMOK TIME AND ALMOST KILLS KIRK AGAIN. like he fully starts choking kirk while reliving the memory

bones and scotty getting drunk off klingon jet fuel. im not kidding.

spock saying "There appears to be a moment of great trauma in my life after which my memories are... unreliable." like yeah me too LMAO

bones starts telling amanda abt spocks brain. leonard mccoy tells spocks MOTHER his BRAIN was TAKEN BY ALIENS for a brief period. shes gonna think abt that for weeks

frames i liked [yes ik the last one is a whole page ITS A GOOD PAGE]

overall 4.4/5. u know i love spock and having added context to the voyage home is fun

thank u for listening to my rambles ok goodnight

#☀️#star trek #star trek comics #where no fag has gone before #star trek the motion picture #star trek the voyage home #star trek the original series

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hummingbird-of-light · 2 months

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Round 2: Sixteenth story for @badthingshappenbingo ~

Title: Never Mess With A Nurse

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Character(s): Robert "Robbie" Scott, Leah McCoy, OCs

Relationship(s): Robert "Robbie" Scott/Leah McCoy

Rating: T

Words: 752

Prompt: Knife to the Throat

Warnings: Violence, Hostage Situation, Major Character Injury, Swearing

(You can also find this story on AO3)

~ Never Mess With A Nurse ~

"I'm going to say this once in a friendly way, you understand that? Let him go."

Robert "Robbie" Scott tried his best not to swallow too hardly. After all, the blade of a sharp knife was pressed quite tightly against his throat.

He definitely hadn't planned for their date to end up like that. It had been supposed to be a nice and quiet evening at a restaurant for him and Leah after a stressful week.

Who could have known that a group of criminals was planning to rob said restaurant on that very evening? And who could've known that they were storming the building right when Leah and Robbie were about to leave?

"Aww, think you can play the hero, honey? Let me get this straight, if you don't want your lover's blood decorating this room, you better sit back down in a chair," the leader of the perpetrators mocked the nurse and nodded towards an empty seat.

If looks had been able to kill, the criminals would have dropped dead that very second. Unfortunately though they weren't and so Leah had to follow the man's order. Reluctantly she stepped over to the chair and sat down.

Robbie furrowed his brows the slightest bit, watching his girlfriend insecurely. There was a dangerous look in Leah's eyes and he didn't know if he liked it.

She seemed to have a plan, he just couldn't tell what it was.

Unfortunately though, the Scotsman didn't have much time to think for the man behind him suddenly started to move forward.

There were four members of the gang. Two were staying close to the front and back doors, making sure that no one tried to escape. Another member was standing next to the counter, ordering one of the employees to unlock the money PADD. It was a PADD on which all payments of the day were collected. With a special device the criminals would steal everything that had been earned that evening.

All of the perpetrators carried phasers with them to hold the scared customers and staff members at gunpoint. As if one hostage wasn't enough...

"Hurry up! We better get away from this place before the cops catch up with us," the man behind Robbie said in a harsh voice. Apparently he was the leader and obviously those guys had already robbed other restaurants that night if the cops were after them.

Maybe willingly, maybe accidentally, the man pressed the knife tighter against Robbie's throat and the Scotsman made a noise, squeezing his eyes shut in pain as the blade started to cut through his skin.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

The criminal moved closer to his face and from the corner of his eyes, Robbie saw a grin on the man's lips. A cold chuckle followed the words as the guy leaned back again.

"Alright, you asked for it, bastard."

Robbie's eyes widened in shock when he heard Leah's voice coming from behind them. The man holding him slowly turned around, still grinning.

"And what do you think —"

He didn't even get to finish the sentence for suddenly a small dart flew at him, hitting him right in the cheek, right beneath his eye. The guy gave a startled cry, even dropping his knife in surprise as he staggered backwards.

His fellow companions instantly turned their attention to what was going on, however, neither of them was fast enough to stop Leah from shooting darts at them too.

It didn't take too long until all the criminals dropped to the floor, still awake, but apparently unable to move.

A smile was on Leah's face as she stepped closer to Robbie who could only stare wide-eyedly at the man who had hurt him. The leader was lying on the ground, his eyes focused on Leah as she was smiling down at him.

"Never mess with a nurse who creates her own little weapons for self-defense."

She held up what looked like a smaller version of a phaser, then knelt down next to the criminal.

"And never touch her boyfriend."

Robbie only blinked in confusion and surprise. Flabbergasted, he raised his finger to say something when Leah got up again, but she only smiled at him.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, they are fine. The poison paralyzes their muscles, but it doesn't hurt. They just won't be able to move until police arrives."

Robbie dropped his finger and sighed, shaking his head. Leah was just incorrigible.

"Now let me take a look at the cut..."

#bad things happen bingo #prompt: knife to the throat #fandom: star trek aos #fanfiction #robbie scott #leah mccoy #robbeah #ocs #whump #violence #hostage situation #major character injury #swearing

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anonymousewrites · 4 months

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Logos and Pathos (Book 3) Chapter Twelve

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Twelve: Anger Beginning

Summary: The Enterprise encounters Klingons, and tensions run unusually high.

Captain’s Log: A distress call from a human colony on Beta XII-A was picked up by the Enterprise. A landing party has beamed down to investigate further, and we remain on alert due to the claims of being attacked.

(Y/N), Kirk, Chekov, Bones, and a security officer materialized on the planet surface and held their phasers tightly.

“Report, Mr. Chekov,” said Kirk as they carefully surveyed the territory.

“Full scan, results negative,” said Chekov. “Radiation level normal. Atmosphere and terrain undisturbed. No evidence of a colony, nor any residual after-effect of a force that might have annihilated.”

“Life readings, Dr. McCoy?” asked Kirk.

“Nothing,” said Bones. “But they said they were being attacked by an unidentified ship.”

“Which we were unable to detect upon approach,” said Chekov.

“An entire human colony, a whole settlement…Who did it, and why?” murmured Kirk angrily. His communicator beeped, and he answered it instantly. “Kirk here.”

“Spock here, Captain,” said Spock. “Sensors have picked up a Klingon ship closing fast.”

“Deflectors on. Condition Red,” said Kirk. “Protect yourselves. Total reply if attacked.” He scowled. “So that’s the answer: Klingons.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Captain, there is no evidence of anything, yet. We should remain neutral so we don’t initiate any issues.” They didn’t particularly like the Klingons (after all, the ones they had met had been pretty rude), but they were a negotiations officer. They were there for diplomacy.

“Captain, the enemy ship is drifting, totally disabled, and we never fired upon her,” reported Spock.

(Y/N) furrowed their brow before a sudden sensation stole their attention. A collection of new emotional auras appeared, vibrating with anger and aggression. “Captain!” they said in alarm, and the moment after they spoke, a landing party of Klingons rounded a boulder.

One officer walked up and went to strike Kirk, but (Y/N) stepped in front and blocked him. He pushed them back and glared, and his anger burned around (Y/N).

“You attacked my ship,” he spat, glaring at Kirk. “Four hundred of my crew, dead. Kirk, my ship is disabled. I claim yours. You are now prisoners of the Klingon Empire, against which you’ve committed a wanton act of war.”

(Y/N) blinked and raised an eyebrow. Now this was a strange development. The situation didn’t make sense at all. And as the anger of the Klingons and the tension wavering around (Y/N)’s friends, they knew they would have to tread carefully to keep war from breaking out.

They stepped back alongside their friends as the Klingons pulled their weapons and circled around them. The Captain of the Klingons began pacing in front of them.

“Three years the Federation and the Klingon Empire have been at peace—a treaty, we have honored to the letter,” said the captain.

“We took no action against your ship, Kang,” replied Kirk curtly.

“Were the screams of my crew imaginary?” snapped Kang. “What were your orders, Kirk? To start a war? You’ve succeeded!”

(Y/N) winced as the anger from their friends and the Klingons spiked. It was like there every emotion was heightened.

“To test a weapon? We shall be happy to examine in,” said Kang.

“There was a Federation colony on this planet!” snapped Kirk. “It was destroyed!”

“By what?” sneered Kang. “No bodies. No ruins. A colony of the invisible?”

“Yes.” Kirk glared. “A test of a new Klingon weapon leaving no traces? Federation ships don’t specialize in sneak attacks.”

“Captain Kirk, Captain Kang, neither of you has proof the other has done anything. This seems to be a misunderstanding. Let’s try to talk before either of you does something you’ll regret,” said (Y/N), interjecting firmly.

Kang tsked. “Of course, the Celian among you is trying to twist the situation to benefit you. Such a soft species ready at your beck and call. Pathetic.”

(Y/N) kept their face expressionless, but they frowned inwardly. Every word seemed to irritate the Klingons, and the anger was a constant cloud around them. Though, (Y/N) was glad their appearance wasn’t brought up like it had been Kolax.

“He lured my ship into an ambush by a false Klingon distress call. You all will tell us why, with proper persuasion,” declared Kang.

“You received a distress call?” spat Kirk. “We received a distress call!”

(Y/N) was growing frustrated with the lack of logic coming from all of them. None of them were stupid. They should know that this was all quite strange and there was something more to the situation.

“I don’t propose to spend the rest of my life on this ball of dust arguing your fantasies!” shouted Kang. “The Enterprise is mine.”

“Captains, please—”

“No,” Kang cut them off. “I’ve heard enough of you Federation scum. Captain Kirk, you will instruct your Transporter Room to beam us aboard.”

“Go to the devil,” responded Kirk promptly.

“We have no devil, Kirk…” drawled Kang. “But we understand the habits of yours.” He paced before them like a predator eyeing its prey. “I shall torture you to death…one by one…until your noble Captain cries enough.”

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, and Kang’s anger burned at them, but the fear of their friends pricked at their skin in an ugly mixture.

“Who will be first?” questioned Kang, anger intensifying as he glared at the group.

It’s almost unnatural, thought (Y/N). I know the temper of Klingons, but this is ridiculous. They opened their mouth to speak, to volunteer themself since even if their friends were being foolish and blinded by anger, they refused to let them get hurt, but Chekov broke from the group first.

“Cossacks! Filthy Klingon murderer!” He ran at Kang, and even Kirk tried to stop him, but he broke away. Two Klingons grabbed Chekov and shoved him to the ground, but the Russian glared at them, anger flaring up into flames of emotion. “You killed my brother, Piotr! The Archanis IV research outpost, a hundred peaceful people massacred! Just like you did here! My brother…You killed my brother!”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise, stepping back from the fire of his anger. They had never seen such intense fury, and the knowledge that Chekov had been hiding such a fact was unexpected.

“So you volunteer to join him,” said Kang coldly. “That is loyalty.”

Another Klingon pressed a device to Chekov’s cheek, and the Starfleet officer screamed in agony as it buzzed. (Y/N) and Kirk pulled against the Klingons holding them back, unable to just stand there and listen to Chekov’s cries.

“Stop the torture!” cried Kirk, and through the haze of anger whirling around them all, worry broke through, stronger than anything else. Kirk wanted his friends safe and well. That was more important than his anger.

Satisfied, Kang nodded to his officer, and the Klingon released Chekov.

“Jim, you can’t hand over the Enterprise,” said Bones urgently.

“Help Chekov,” ordered Kirk, not responding to the comment.

“Don’t plan any tricks, Kirk,” warned Kang. “I will kill one hundred hostages at the first sign of treachery.”

“I’ll beam you aboard the Enterprise,” said Kirk. “Once there—no tricks.”

Kang searched his face for evidence of lies before nodding, and his officers let go of Kirk’s arms. Kang handed the communicator over, and Kirk sullenly flipped it open.

“Captain, you can’t,” said Chekov. “Don’t let these animals have the ship.” Beside him, Bones kept the Klingons away as he checked his state.

“Animals?” Kang scoffed. “Your Captain crawls like one. A Klingon would never have surrendered. Order everybody in this area to be transported up.” He nodded to his people. “All weapons on him.”

“Kirk to Enterprise,” said Kirk. “Mr. Spock.”

“Here, Captain,” said Spock.

“Mr. Spock, we have guests,” said Kirk distastefully. “Adjust transporter for wider field. Beam up everyone in the target area.” He lowered the communicator and subtly pressed a button to alert Spock to the dangerous situation.

“Understood, Captain,” said Spock. He would handle everything. (And be extra careful since (Y/N) was on the planet surface and in danger as well).

The group on the planet straightened, and a few seconds later, the transporter beam caught them, and they dematerialized.

The Starfleet officers rematerialized in the Transporter Room first.

“Call Security, on the double,” said Kirk instantly to Scotty while Spock walked into the room, his eyes instantly on (Y/N) to check on them.

(Y/N) nodded to him to show they were alright, and he redirected to his job.

“Good work, Spock,” said Kirk.

“What happened?” asked Bones in confusion.

“The landing party is intact, Doctor. All others are suspended in transit,” said Spock.

“Who are the guests, by the way?” asked Scotty.

“Klingons,” said (Y/N).

“In transit?” Scotty’s eyes widened.

“Well, they’re right in there,” said Kirk. “Johnson?”

The security officer nodded. “Security men on the way, sir.”

“Captain, leave them where they are—non-existence,” argued Chekov. “That’s so many less Klingon monsters in the galaxy.”

(Y/N) blinked. Leaving the Klingons’ presence hadn’t abated the anger within the group. It was as present as ever.

Before anyone could respond, Johnson’s reinforcements arrived with phasers at the ready.

“Bring them in,” said Kirk to Scotty.

He obeyed, and the bodies of the Klingons rematerialized. Before they had a chance to attack, the security officers ran up and grabbed their weapons, leaving the Klingons defenseless.

“Move ‘em out. Move,” said the officers, ushering the Klingons away.

“Liar!” spat Kang, glaring at Kirk.

“I said no tricks after we reach the ship,” retorted Kirk. “You’re a prisoner of the Federation of Planets—against which you may or may not be guilty have committed an act of war.”

“There are still survivors aboard my ship,” said Kang.

“Captain, we’ve not been able to get through to Starfleet Command,” interjected Scotty. “All subspace frequencies have been blocked, and there’s too much radiation coming from that Klingon ship. It’s a hazard to the vicinity.”

“Prepare to destruct,” said Kirk.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they shared a look with Spock. That was a sudden decision that could prompt war.

“Captain, perhaps you’d like to consider the people still aboard?” said (Y/N).

“Yes, of course,” said Kirk, shaking his head like (Y/N) had shaken him from his mind. “Start beaming them over beforehand.”

(Y/N) relaxed. So at least Kirk still had half a mind.

“First group from the Klingon vessel, Captain,” said Spock. They materialized, and security officers escorted them out. One, however, quickly moved to Kang’s side.

Kang nodded to the woman. “My wife and Science Officer, Mara.”

“Kang, what has happened?” questioned Mara.

“More Federation treachery,” he snapped. “We are prisoners.”

“What will they do to us?” asked Mara, eyeing them suspiciously. “I have heard of their atrocities. They will torture us for our scientific and military information.”

“We will not harm you,” said (Y/N). Unlike most of the speakers, they still had a calm, level voice. They nodded to the security officers. “They are taking you to a crew lounge with a synthesizer for food. You will be treated well.”

(Y/N) wouldn’t harm people for no reason, and they were there to keep diplomatic relationships as non-tense as possible (which was failing horribly at the moment). They wouldn’t send the Klingons to be harmed. Not when they suspected something strange was going on, some sort of misunderstanding between both parties.

“Tch.” Kang glared, but Mara tilted her head and legitimately considered (Y/N)’s words. Then, the security officers pushed them out of the room, and the Starfleet officers were left alone.

“Secure from Red Alert,” said Kirk as they headed out themselves. “But maintain general quarters. Scan this sector for other ships. Run a full check on the colony. I want this thing nailed down fast.”

“We know what happened!” snapped Chekov with red-hot anger. “That distress call.”

Spock, cutting of Chekov’s rage, spoke. “At the moment we received the distress call from the colony on Beta XII-A, the Klingons were too far distant to have been the attackers. Moreover, they were apparently also attracted by a distress call.”

(Y/N) gazed fondly at Spock. At least someone here still had their head on their shoulders instead of being angry all the time and was noticing something unusual was happening.

“Lies,” said Chekov as they stepped into the elevator. “They want to start a war by pretending that we did.”

“Chekov may be right,” said Bones. “The Klingons claim to have honored the truce, but there have been incidents, raids on our outposts.

Not Bones, too, thought (Y/N), frowning as the doctor’s irritation turned to a warm haze, a few pushes from anger.

“No proof that the Klingons committed it,” said Kirk.

(Y/N) nodded. They needed to keep their head on properly and understand that nothing was certain here. “Yes. We cannot risk jumping to conclusions without proof.”

“What proof do we need?” muttered Bones. “We know what a Klingon is.” The elevator doors opened, and he got off at his floor.

After an awkward pause, Spock spoke again. “Our log tapes will indicate our innocence in the present situation.”

“Unfortunately, there’s no guarantee that they’ll be believed,” sighed (Y/N). The doors opened to the Bridge, and they walked out.

“Report, Sulu,” said Kirk.

“Still no contact from Starfleet Command, sir,” replied Sulu. “Outside communications blanketed.”

“Keep trying. We’ve got a diplomatic tiger by the tail,” said Kirk.

“Transporter Room to Bridge,” said Scotty over the comms. “Klingon ship is vacated, sir.”

“Very good, Scotty. Mr. Sulu?” said Kirk.

“Forward phasers locked and ready to fire, sir,” said Sulu.

“Fire phaser,” commanded Kirk.

Sulu fired, and the phasers destroyed the remains of the Klingon ship.

“Sensor sweeps reveal no other ships within range, Captain,” reported Spock.

“Lieutenant (L/N)?” asked Kirk.

“Still no contact with Starfleet Command,” said (Y/N), scanning the radio frequencies.

“Mr. Sulu, change course to 17 mark 4, warp factor 3,” said Kirk.

"Warp factor 3, sir,” confirmed Sulu as the Enterprise began moving.

(Y/N) frowned as they kept trying to contact Starfleet. Even though the radiation interference was gone, they weren’t getting a response. “Captain,” they called, and Kirk turned around in his seat. “This doesn’t make any sense. Carriers are completely normal, and the channels are open, but there’s still no outside contact. I have no explanation for it.”

“Could the Klingons be doing something?” asked Kirk.

(Y/N) went to shake their head, but the Bridge shook suddenly and cut off the conversation. Spock reached out to steady (Y/N) at the same moment they reached out to him.

“Sulu?” called Kirk, holding onto his seat as the Enterprise swerved.

“Change of course. Accelerating,” reported Sulu. “Helm dead. Auxiliary navigation dead.”

“Override,” said Kirk, reaching out to the controls. Nothing changed.

“Nothing responds, Captain,” said Sulu.

“Scotty, stop all engines!” called Kirk.

“I would if I could, sir,” said Scotty. “But the controls have gone crazy. Something’s taking over. The engines have gone to warp 9! By themselves!”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they held onto Spock’s arm a little tighter.

“New course?” questioned Kirk.

“902 mark 5,” said Sulu.

(Y/N) and Spock’s heads snapped to one another. That would take them out of the galaxy.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

Note

Mancation: maiming; mutilation / Sinister

"Make the incision, McCoy."

There was a pregnant shine of a scalpel, the movement of an oversized hand, the twitch of fingers . . . and then . . . moments passed.

A sigh.

"I said, make the incision, McCoy."

There was a momentary wobble of a finger, a halting breath - before the scalpel moved, the gleaming stainless steel tip pressing to warm, unmoving flesh, unzipping the thin layer of - in front of the - that covered the, sternum, that . . .

Blood.

A clatter, a turn of a stomach. And then warm, pale fingers on the back of his neck, and Henry went stiff, feeling the familiar touch of his - mentor's hand on the so very human looking flesh of his neck.

"You don't want to disappoint me, do you, Henry?"

The shake of a head.

"So why do you persist in doing so, boy?"

The bob of an Adam's apple, and the garish homunculus that once was, still called itself, Nathaniel Essex, let out another sigh.

"You're fifteen years old, Henry. You're more than old enough to do this now. It isn't even a mutant you're working on yet, this is just a flatscan. They aren't people. You know that. You've seen the research we've done on them, we know that they don't feel pain the same way that we do."

Did they? Did they know that?

"There are thousands of mutants who would kill to be in the position you're in now, boy. Thousands of people with lesser intellects but greater wills to do what must be done, and they're all just sitting, waiting, for the chance that you keep squandering. How long do you think I shall wait? How many chances do you think I'll give you?"

He was quiet. The boy couldn't normally shut up when he was cloistered with his books and his research journals, but the instant it came time to do some actual damned work, he was quiet? The human spine of him was so very disgusting.

". . . I had high hopes for you. I selected you personally."

There was - a vague memory. Henry wasn't sure if it was blanketed out by some kind of mental alteration, by what he knew to be a young mind's inability to form long term memories the same way a fully formed one did, or if it was just . . . fear.

A fear of half-remembered warmth that had turned so very cold so very quickly. He remembered . . . sitting on the floor, it had been a wood floor, next to a fireplace, he couldn't have been more than - four, maybe five. Very young. Very very young. He could remember hushed, frightened voices, a man and a woman, talking about getting out of America, about leaving the farm behind and just going.

He could remember not liking that idea. Of wanting to stay on the farm, with its strings of golden corn and rich, brown earth, with its never-ending horizon and all the things he could swing from - it was a playground to him.

Everything gleamed, sparkled, it had such lustre, it begged to be looked at, turned over, investigated, prodded, poked. He'd had a field day when he discovered worms liked mud, he'd just sat there watching them for hours until his . . . someone, had found him, told him off, cleaned him up. Held his jaw and smiled, telling him that she wasn't upset, that she just wanted to make sure he was all right, that he could tell her all about what the worms had done over dinner.

Dinner had been burbling away when the knock at the door had come. The low tones and the panicked, assertive whisper-shouts of two people who knew their time was running out had ceased, replaced with silence. Just the burbling of a pot.

The swing of a door. A shadow in the doorway. A voice.

His voice.

Every time he tried to remember past that point, it got hazy. Complicated. Like a knot of hair that had been left to scraggle around itself for months, tangled so tight it was impossible to unwind, fit only to be cut out and regrown healthy. Untangled. Uncomplicated.

"I have raised you, taken a special interest in your education, in your growth, in your being. You would be lesser without me, you know that, don't you?"

In his mind, Henry pulled at that tangle, and it bled. He could remember - smoke, coagulating in his lungs, choking him. He could remember a sweet smell even through the salt of tears, blood soaked wood, and then pale. White. Pale white with a little red diamond.

"You insult me with your silence, Henry, but that's fine. It's the burden of a father to be disappointed by his son. You have one week. If I return to this lab and you do not have results for me, you'll be released from your service and you can make do out there."

There was an instinctive chill at the mention of out there. A tensing, a revulsion, a creeping horror at the knowledge that the world was not as it should be and there was nothing anyone could do to make it the way it should be.

Footsteps. The door. And then, as if like magic, the air returned to the room.

Henry breathed and pulled back, his hands shaking as he looked down at the tiny incision he'd made, barely a cut, really, but even just that speck of blood had made him want to retch. An invisible hand reached over the back of his and squeezed, directed him to grab a surgical cloth and clean, apply pressure, stop the bleeding.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He pulled away the instant he could, moved to the sink, refused to look in the mirror for as long as he could. Why hadn't he been able to do it? He'd been taught the correct method, he had studied all the surgical manuals, it should have been easy, he had hands that could, that could disassemble and reassemble a pulse particle rifle in twenty seconds, that could detect the vibrations from the music three floors down if he pressed his palm to the walls, his hands never shook, but the instant he'd . . .

He looked up, in the mirror, and winced. He was pale. Sweaty, weak, white as a sheet, god, he was disgusting. Why was this the hand that his X-gene had dealt him? Why did he have to look so basely human? Why did he have to look so degenerate, so much lesser? Why couldn't he have been one of the lucky ones?

His mutant gift was concentrated in hands that couldn't do the work he had been given. What cruel irony was this?

"Have you read the Lord Apocalypse's latest treatise, McCoy?"

Henry's eyes flicked up from the food he'd been pushing around on his plate with a blunted knife, regarding Kavita with a cool, cautious eye. She was a human, but - she was all right, by most standards. Allowed to work with the other mutant scientists by virtue of her intelligence and her willingness to work in the ways that Henry found so hard, she was probably a front runner for his replacement if he continued to falter.

For a moment, he considered plunging the knife into her throat, just on the off chance that happened.

"What? No. No, I have not, I've been - busy."

Busy being not busy. Busy staring at the drugged subject on his lab table, trying to work up the nerve to carve them open and nourish himself with the information that was hidden inside. Busy trying to be someone he wasn't.

"Too busy to read the Lord's latest treatise . . ? That doesn't sound like you."

He scowled.

"If you wish to continue to be enigmatic, Rao, you can leave. I'm in no mood to entertain you today."

Kavita rolled her eyes, knowing better than almost anyone that Henry was just in one of his moods, and though she elected to leave, as he'd suggested, she did, nonetheless, slide over a pamphlet - a slim one, by Apocalypse's standards, but that usually boded well. That usually meant less philosophy, more science.

'The Awakening of Mutancy - Secondary Mutation.'

"I think you'll find it an interesting read. It's still just theory, for the most part, but Apocalypse truly believes that there's potential in it."

Henry devoured it. From the first word to the last, it was seared into his brain, because in amongst the quasi-religious, gallingly obvious propaganda about the purity of the mutant form, there was science here - there was theory, there was data, there was hypothesis, there was . . . promise. Unfulfilled, as of yet, but it was there.

X-gene manifestation at puberty as a result of a cocktail of hormones, adrenaline, acetylcholine, forming a brand new hormone that had yet to be isolated, but that was theorised to be the root cause of mutant gifts. A hormone. Fascinating. Chemical instructions, chemical blueprints for a new form that catalysed the unique genetic markers, pulled something new out of the code, a form of alchemy, really.

Fascinating.

"Rao, I assure you, Essex knows the specifics of this project, and it's to him, and him alone, that I'm responsible. Now, if you'll excuse me, this cell diagram has to be programmed immediately. And to do that, I'll need absolute concentration. Which means, I'm afraid, you'll have to leave."

There was a moment of pregnant silence as Kavita took Henry McCoy in, took in the frantic, manic little man as he all but raced from table to table, from station to station, before she spoke.

"Henry, this is . . . you only have three more days before Essex returns, and you haven't even begun to do the work that he's asked you to do. Are you sure you should be wasting time on this?"

"It's not a waste of time. You don't understand."

The short, clipped tone made Kavita feel as though she were staring at Henry through a funhouse mirror - he was still unmistakably himself, still that same too intense fifteen year old with a mop of brown hair, but there was a look in his eyes that was . . . impulsive. Propulsive. Determined. Worrying.

"I almost wish I hadn't given you that pamphlet now, it's clear that I set you down a path for fai - "

In an instant, he was upon her, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her against the nearest wall. Her head bounced and she groaned in pain, but even though she could see a flicker of remorse in those searing blue eyes, it didn't stop him for even a second.

"I. Will not. Fail. I can't fail. It's impossible. I'm too smart to fail. I just need time, to focus, and I don't need wittering little humans with their fragile little four chambered hearts and their shrunken brains to talk to me as if they know me."

Kavita swallowed.

"Henry, your heart is - "

"Six chambered. Just because I look like you, just because I look like a genetic mistake, doesn't mean I am. What matters, is what is in here - " He tapped fervently at his temple and his heart. " - and that is mutant." He released her, stepping back, breathing deeply, and she rubbed at the back of her head.

". . . You've done me a service, Kavita. That pamphlet was the key. But you are, in the end, only human. Don't forget that. No-one will ever let you."

He turned, and she watched him stalk over to the cell diagram once more.

"I hope - I hope that this brings you what you want, Henry. I hope, more than anything, that what you want, is what will make you happy."

Perhaps you should have listened to her, Henry. Instead of focusing on the genetic extractor you were developing, perhaps it might have saved you.

"There - it's done. I've finally diluted the precipitate. This . . . this is the hormonal extract, the chemical cause of mutation. With this solution, we'll be able to extend the natural chromosonal imbalances - in effect, to turn any man into a mutant."

You swallowed, Henry. You could feel, on some level, that this was a moment that would define you. What might other Henry McCoys have done? Put the extract down, throw it in the trash? Accept failure? Accept defeat? Accept the human face that stares at you from the mirror?

Not you, though.

The fear. The sheer, unbridled terror that's sat in your gut since that day so many years ago. The low, dull throb of anxiety that pulses like a second heart inside of you. The crippling, choking shadow of a hand around your throat, and something wet coagulating on your face.

The fear is what makes the decision. Not you. But then, what is a man but the sum of his fears? What is a man but the totality of the roads not taken? What is a man, if not what he'll do to avoid failure?

"Don't know what will happen if you mutate a mutant . . . but I've got to take the chance. I've got to."

That wasn't precisely the truth, was it, Henry McCoy? You didn't have to. But the fear that's driven you since you were five years old and newly adopted by a thing not of this earth told you differently, and you took the hormonal extract, and . . .

You changed.

Blinding, searing pain - for a moment, you thought you might have swallowed acid. You bent over, clutched at your stomach, and for that long moment, you thought, this is what it means to die. But that was when you understood.

It's all right to die. Resurrection, reformation, rebirth, re-emergence, resurgence, is what separates the man from the mutant, after all.

And resurrected you were. Your skin burst, the flesh separating from the muscle as the soft cells of a human burned away, to be replaced. Your nails surged forward, blood bubbling up around the cuticle as the digits swelled and everything about you grew. You screamed as that hole inside of you was suddenly filled to overflowing, as newfound strength thrummed through you, new life, new power, new you.

It's all right to die, isn't it, Henry? Nothing of value inside of you was lost. Not truly. Some other Henry McCoy might see this as a curse, but you . . . ahhh.

You were blessed.

"Well now, Henry, young Doctor Rao here tells me that you've been quite the busy bee - I do so hope that you've applied yourself to - "

Essex stopped.

The broad back that worked and flowed and tensed and relaxed before him was covered in a thick layer of harsh black fur. Heavy strands of hair were braided, hung low with beads. There was a glimpse of a hand, twisted into cruel, shimmering claws and grabbing, eager fingers, and Kavita brought her palm up to her mouth. She spoke through her fingers, taking it all in.

"What is all this?"

The voice that answered was deep, sonorous. There was a rumble to it that wasn't quite human. An edge to it that wasn't quite all there, or, maybe it was. It sounded so very sure.

"It's science."

Essex's voice was dubious.

"Science. How delightfully vague, Henry. What have you been doing? I hope for your sake it's been what I told you to do."

Henry - or, whatever it was that had assumed Henry's shape - turned around, and Kavita wanted to scream. Essex, even, started.

A mouth twisted with glee at their reactions.

"Why, Kavita, Nathaniel, you look as though you've seen a ghost. But then, perhaps that's accurate."

He stepped aside, revealing the body flayed open, pinioned with steel rods, the flesh taut like canvas, organs conspicuous by their absence. There had been no mercy, no invisible hands, no memory here. Just efficiency. Just good, honest science.

"After all, a ghost is nothing more than a memory, a memory of who we once were, before we become what we must."

The thing laughed, and Sinister laughed with it - delighted. Proud.

"And what am I to call my young protege, now that he's become what he was always meant to be?"

It was almost affectionate, the way Sinister's tongue curled around the words, and Kavita could see the creature revel in them. He didn't have to think twice.

"Beast. Call me Beast."

#defyxoblivion #lost words drabble meme #blood tw #surgery tw #violence tw #supremacist language tw #abusive relationship tw #toxic family tw #verbal abuse tw #self-hatred tw #body horror tw

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charlemane · 1 year

Text

thinking about the purring vulcan fanon and spones...

spock recuperating from whatever in the med bay and OFC he would never ever do anything as UNDIGNIFIED as PURRING in front of his CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER

at least not while he's conscious

but he's drifting off in this half-sleep state and despite everything, on a bone-deep level he knows that he is safe here, and he is cared for, and he is among people he cares about

and then he wakes up and bones is just? staring at him? and bones, having no sufficient medical texts about human-vulcan hybridology, which isn't even a THING except for this one guy, is like. are you broken. were you having a special vulcan continuous micro-seizure. what the fuck was that.

and spock, being a BITCH ASS LIAR, is like "well, doctor, vulcan anatomy is especially evolved with a stress response that has served to help us keep ourselves clean of the sand of our desert planet by emanating low vibrations through our bodies. i am surprised that it was triggered in this instance, but it must be because being in this medbay with you is approximately as unpleasant as being stuck in a sandstorm on the planet vulcan"

later mccoy gets the whole story from m'benga and laughs for two weeks straight

#spones #tos #spock #bones #sometimes a ship is two grown ass men being bitches to each other bc they can't admit they're in love #(don't try that irl)

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thetruemek · 1 year

Text

"𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕹𝖊𝖜 𝕭𝖔𝖘𝖘 𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑" has updated!!!

61. Sleepwalk

Goldheart was a simple man. A simple hero. By his principles at least. He wanted only one thing: that evil ceased to exist. Nothing more, noting less. Simple, right? Precise, to the point, definitive…

But evil had so many twisted angles! Each aspect of the human psyche could be corrupted, had the potential for unspeakable, abhorrent, disgusting deeds of evil, even those close to you, and don’t get him started on the topic of monsters – so as simple as his goal might be, the means to maybe someday achieve it certainly weren’t.

However, now it would seem that he had made a breakthrough in his crusade. If the intel of this communications surveillance technician was actually the real McCoy and not the work of a teenage miscreant.

His handsome face twitches around the lips, trying not to grimace at the disturbing figure in front of him. He really doesn’t mean to, but monsters of any kind were just so… inherently devilish it takes his entire willpower to keep his beaming smile up as he listens to the report from the technician. Why had the supervising special agent insisted on this spiel instead of giving him the briefing himself? Maybe then he would’ve been able to actually focus on the topic and not constantly be distracted by the freakish looks of this hell spawn, this-

“Mr. Goldheart, sir? Are you alright?” the armless dinosaur-monster suddenly asks, a slight lisp to his words caused by the huge front teeth. A cold sweat of shock races up his broad back beneath the golden suit, harshly chastising him for getting caught in his carelessness.

Instead of an immediate answer, Goldheart closes his eyes and nods his head with honest gravitas. It was possible that what their surveillance system had managed to capture from the aether could be of importance – he should just ignore his own discomfort!

#Villainous #Villanos #Blackhat #Black Hat #Undertale #mafiatale #mobster!tale #multiverse #horror #villainous/undertale #villainous au #reader insert #f!reader #lovecraftian #lovecraft #YNBFH #Goldheart #Monster Kid

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starryeyes2000 · 1 year

Note

Oohh this game is fun! Okay... How about "honey" 😉

Oh @emilie786, thank you for the ask! This is fun.

Game: If the word provided is in your wip document, answer with the sentence (or more) containing the word.

In Trust Love One More Time: (McCoy x OFC Cara)

“Well then you’re in luck as I come bearing hushpuppies with honey butter as well as sweet tea.” McCoy placed the tray he carried on the table and took a seat. He held up a plate in invitation. “Try one. Mom used to make them after a day at the beach. So, for me, they are a special treat.”

Care did. Then another and another and another and another before remarking, “We’re going to need more honey butter. Lots more.”

In Where's An All Night Pharmacy When You Need It: (Pike & OMC Noah)

At a little past midnight Chris leads his son to the table and points to one of the chairs. Noah obediently climbs into it but makes a face when his father sets a bowl with yogurt, kiwis, honey, and almonds in front of him in addition to the requested glass of water. Noah, who earlier had refused dinner, shakes his head and responds stubbornly, “Not eating it, not hungry.”

Leaning against the wall Chris crosses his arms in front of his chest and calmly replies, “It’s not a request.”

In Volte-Face (Pike and OFC Aalin)

Plan decided, Chris paced the room as he waited.

When the doors opened, he fumbled around his desk, picking up a PADD in an effort to look busy.

“In my experience they work better if you turn them the other way round,” Aalin offered helpfully with an amused expression. Her hand brushed his as she stepped nearer to demonstrate.

He wanted to link his arm with hers and keep her close.

“What? Oh.” He tossed the PADD back on the desk.

Aalin had changed into jeans and a pale-yellow blouse that accentuated her honey-colored hair, which fell well below her shoulders. The color of her hair wasn’t exactly blonde nor exactly brown but rather in between like caramel, and it was lighter than when they first met several months ago. Probably bleached in the harsh sun of this planet, Chris thought as he imagined it blowing in the desert wind. He had remembered her eyes as blue but standing this close saw they were colored with subtle shades of both blue and green, with a golden starburst around the pupils. Oh, damn, I missed what she said.

Tagging the lovely: @mrsmungus, @themaradaniels @emilie786 @arrthurpendragon @sun-lit-roses @hammerbacks @jedikat71 @karimac @darsynia (when she returns from vacation) @chickensarentcheap

Your word is: dawn

#word in wip game

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lavender-romancer · 5 months

Text

Star Trek Masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

James T. Kirk

Kirk Trying To Ask You Out

♡ “You’re too drunk sweetheart.”

♡ Kirk keeps trying to find you to ask you out but you’ve been able to avoid him till today

You've Always Liked Jim

♡ You go back to Jim’s apartment after inadvertently robbing him of taking a girl back to his.

He's So Pretty

♡ Kirk had no idea you felt the same way for him as he did for you, as you plan to leave Starfleet. Is it all too little too late for the two of you?

With Him

♡ Jim thinks you’ve been cheating on him and he doesn’t know how to discuss it with you

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Spock

Say You Love Me ♡ You feel neglected by Spock and just want him to tell you he cares about you The Cold Sea ♡ Your relationship with Spock began fairly happily and innocently but soon transformed into a non-communicative nightmare Tutor ♡ Your boyfriend Spock helping you study for a test

Loving You Was A Mistake ♡ retired ♡ Your relationship with Spock ends abruptly as he puts his species' needs in front of your relationship, this leads to a romance with another member of the Enterprise one two three

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Leonard 'Bones' McCoy

Nap At Bones' Apartment ♡ You're a bit drunk but, you're hanging out with Leonard and a sleeping Jim

The Transfer ♡ retired ♡ You and Bones used to date, but he left without explanation and you haven’t spoken in seven years. Now you’re the transfer nurse to the USS Enterprise which will reunite you and your lost lover one two

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Nyota Uhura

One Last Time ♡ You and Nyota broke up a while ago but is it really over? Unwanted ♡ You're Spock's sister but your family has never seemed to like you. You come to York Town early to see your brother and meet a special someone

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lucascecil · 5 months

Text

Project: Blue Box - The Fearmonger

This is a review with SPOILERS.

◆ Summary

There is a monster controlling election candidate Sherilyn Harper; a monster that only Walter Jacobs can see. Investigating a possible alien threat, the Seventh Doctor and Ace find themselves in the middle of local political intrigue as things become increasingly tense on the streets of London.

◆ Doctor

I have a complicated relationship with the Seventh Doctor. A character with a confusing and aimless start to life who found himself in a unique and very interesting characterization but that also often distances me emotionally from the character. To make matters worse, this same characterization is not always done successfully in the Seventh's stories - an evil that affects any incarnation of the Doctor, yes, but I believe that with McCoy it is more frequent than the others.

A legacy of the last two seasons of the TV series, he is often said to be one of the Doctor's most manipulative lives - always two steps ahead of the other characters. In some stories, this will be the biggest lie you've ever read in your life - a complete farce and a character with a very unique talent for truism and no tact at all. Not here.

Perhaps my favorite thing about The Fearmonger, Seventh has one of his best performances. Distant and mysterious, but in a way that engages rather than alienates. Manipulative, too, and in fact always two steps ahead of everyone else. He has an era marked by anti-establishment stories, but an element always invoked through, in particular, Ace, I really like that he also has dialogues about these themes here.

In a rare moment of dichotomy for the character, he defends words without euphemisms : "Just like wacko, or EuroNazi. But it helps, doesn't it? You're faced with something you fear, so you have to give it a name, don't you? Nothing that makes it sound serious, like evil, just something glib, a catch-phrase, a bit of noise. But the thing I'm looking for doesn't have a name. Not yet."

He and Ace have a wonderful scene during the second part about how time passes, but the world remains the same. "No, mostly they break the butterfly on the wheel of Time. Over the decades, the millions of butterflies, the weather still changes somehow. That’s Time. A million multi-colored pieces of Time." My favorite line of his here is perhaps, however, when he revolts that the local revolutionary group is called the United Front, very generic.

There is also another very good scene of his when he confronts the Fearmonger in the hospital - there is few things that scare him more than Ace being hurt. Not death, much less changing. He is afraid and worries for Ace, which plays with their paternal relationship.

Other favorite scene of mine is at the ending when Seven confronts Sharilyn about her place in what happened, in one more condemnation of that practice of turning fear and intolerance into weapons - and probably giving her anxiety for the next few months. I was left wondering, though, if the Doctor really was the one to judge. This is a life of his that is specially known for using the worst of people in his favor - it's not the same, but still.

◆ Ace

I have a compicated relationship with Ace. A character that are often inconsistent and that unfortunately takes way too much of Seven's life for my liking - but she didn't become so proeminent for nothing. The point we left her and Seven at Survival is irresistible and her relationship with the Doctor so defining for his character that of course she would sequester his ternure.

Fortunately, The Fearmonger is not a story that fuels my fatigue of Ace. We are back to season twenty-six characterization, when this TARDIS team relationship was still shaky, which was what made them so interesting on TV. The right choice for their first adventure on Big Finish - you can feel how excited Sylvester and Alphred are to be back into their characters.

With a life of the Doctor that for me feels so disconected from humanity, the companions are specially important - that, plus Ace's first few years in the TARDIS being basically a coming of age is what makes their relationship so fascinating for me.

I really dislike the militarized side of her character - that one that carry weapons and make some explosions -, but at the same it's bizarre to listen trying to talk her problems through and encouraging non-violent solutions. Ace being "violent" is such a consistent part of her character that in both times I listened to The Fearmonger it took me by surprise. Perhaps that's why I think it's fitting she get a shot when she tries.

But the most important scene for her character may be the last one, that further the already mentined coming of age narrative when she put into words her paranoia and fears abour the Doctor - not only necessary for the story but actually nedeed as a follow up to season twenty-six. Of course the path forwards is still messy - how much they can hurt each other is part integral of Ace and Seven's relationship -, but it's still nice and beautiful to see them talking and settling the problems between them. There is self-deprication in one of Ace's line that tells you how insecure she feels that got into my heart.

◆ Other characters

All the other characters of The Fearmonger have a well-define reason to be in the plot, but none them are such a highlight that I can say they'll stay with me, in memory. My favorites are Paul, a friend of Ace's that is relevant here and expands a little bit her life beyond the Doctor (or, in other words: how her relationship with the Doctor changed her mundane relationships) and Roderick, the guy responsible for the electoral campaign and most of the problems that happens in the story. It's a line from Roderick that better summarize the themes of The Fearmonger: "You can't trust anyone these days."

The politician Sherilyn Harper is interpreted by Jacqueline Pierce, who is always great in all of her roles in Doctor Who. Does my love for Ollistra perhaps influence my opinion on her here? Sure, but she is great nonetheless. Then you have Walter, who is a interesting character for me in the sense that I like his place in the story and what he brings out of Ace, but the guy himself I didn't particularly like.

Radio announcer Mick Thompson is a fun character that I wouldn't mind if became recurring.

◆ Great ideas and memorable quotes

"Two part genius, one part panic" is the best way to describe Seven, ever.

This is a tale about paranoia and a theme that shines through its characters. All the lines of dialogue go slowly building this jigsaw of human interaction that show you who these character truly are at their core and even if they aren't that engaging invidually, as a whole they are interesting. Be it for the strategies for the political campaign, be it for the huge fear that takes control of the characters who were touched by the Fearmonger.

This is a story with a strong political perspective, as is to be exected from Seven and Ace here and there, but it's also a little bit subtle. All the conflict is built around racism and xenophobia, which was relevant in 2000 and is not a little bit less relevant in 2023. Time goes on but the world doesn't change, indeed. The choice of setting this in 2002 aged interestingly. The Fearmonger was released in 2000, two years earlier, so of course there was no way to predict September eleven, but it still fits so much with the racial tensions that followed and the war on terror.

Just an interesting coincidence, sure, but another proof that time goes on and nothing changes. Not that The Fearmonger predicted the future, but its themes are so inevitable of modern societies and human nature that they will never not be relevant.

I don't know, however, if that racial tension is a little bit too subtle. The text is not afraid of tackling it - the Doctor establishes at the beginning the importance of calling things by what they are - but it's still something I am not sure about.

"I’m giving you a chance to impress him. You’ll know what to do. I’ve always hated hospitals." "Too full of sick people, right?" "And doctors who think they know everything."

◆ Sound work

Both the tracks and the sound effects are very simples, giving this domestic feeling to the story and making it all feel more personal. Because of that there is nothing much I want to highlight from the sound work, but it's the right choice to make the narrative feel claustrophobic.

◆ Replay factor

This is something I only talk about for stories I've listened at least once before. This stoy has some twists - and one of them I was coming miles away. About how the Fearmonger works. But the other catched me by surprise. However, both of them are benefited by a relisten because you get to see how it's built in the dialogue.

◆ The Veredict

The Fearmonger is a story with a lot of say about the social politic scenario it was made and that uses of its themes to work perfectly with the regulars and their relationship - that brings them closer by putting the trust Ace and Seven have in each on check. A good start for their ternure in audio.

◆ Nota: ótimo, ★★★★☆

#Seventh Doctor #Project: Blue Box

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